"But, your highness, all appears to be perfectly prepared. The frigate which has brought the good De Chemerant is filled with arms and ammunition; there is in it enough to arm and revolutionize all the Cornishmen in the world; moreover, you can count on a dozen of your partisans."
"Of my partisans! and where, then?" cried Monmouth.
"On board Chemerant's frigate. These brave men are waiting for me, that is to say, waiting for you, your highness, with great impatience. There is above all a madman named Mortimer, whom De Chemerant had the greatest difficulty in the world to keep on board, so much was he possessed with the desire to embrace me—I would say embrace you, for I confound us all the time."
Angela, seeing the troubled manner of her husband, said to him, "My God! what ails you?"
"I can no longer hesitate," replied Monmouth, "I must tell De Chemerant the whole truth."
"Heavens, James! what are you saying?"
"You wish to be viceroy, your highness?" interposed Croustillac.
"No, sir, I desire to prevent your ruining yourself on my account. My gratitude will be no less lasting for the service that you wished to do me."
"How, your highness? Is it not, then, to become viceroy that you would dispossess me of my principality?"
"My partisans are on board the frigate; if I should accept your generous offer, sir, to-morrow you would be known—lost."