"I can well believe, mademoiselle, 'tis no trifling matter brings you at midnight to our rough camp. We will not delay you further, but be at pains to remember that if in anything Henry of France can aid you he stands at your command."
He made her a noble bow and took her hand to kiss, when she, like a child that sees itself losing a protector, clutched his hand in her little trembling fingers, her wet eyes fixed imploringly on his face. He beamed upon her; he felt no desire whatever to be gone.
"Am I to stay?" he asked radiantly; then with grave gentleness he added: "Mademoiselle is in trouble. Will she bring her trouble to the king? That is what a king is for—to ease his subjects' burdens."
She could not speak; she made him her obeisance with a look out of the depths of her soul.
"Then are you my subject, mademoiselle?" he demanded slyly.
She shook the tears from her lashes, and found her voice and her smile to answer his:
"Sire, I was a true Ligueuse this morning. But I came here half Navarraise, and now I swear I am wholly one."
"Now, that is good hearing!" the king cried. "Such a recruit from Mayenne! Also is it heartening to discover that my conversion is not the only sudden one in the world. It has taken me five months to turn my coat, but here is mademoiselle turns hers in a day."