Monsieur laughed out with a gay gusto; after a moment Mayenne laughed too. My duke cried quickly, rising and walking the length of the table to his host:
"You have dealt with me munificently, Mayenne. You have kept back but one thing I want. That is yourself. You know you must come over to us sooner or later. Come now!"
The other did not flame out at Monsieur, but answered coldly:
"I have no taste to be Navarre's vassal."
"Better his than Spain's."
Mayenne shrugged his shoulders, his face at its stolidest.
"Well, I am no astrologer to read the future."
Monsieur laid an emphatic hand on his host's shoulder.
"But I read it, my friend. I see a French land under a French king, a Catholic and a gallant fellow, faithful to old friends, friendly to old foes. I see the dear land at peace at last, the looms humming, the mills clacking, wheat growing thick on the battle-fields."
Mayenne looked up with a grim smile.