"Dominic is a worthy servant."
"What else should he be? Was he not brought up in your house, monsieur, and the son of one of your oldest servants, the worthy forester of the woods of Chatillon?"
"Oh, my dear house of Chatillon, my meadows, my woods, my vines, my grain fields, my thrifty laborers—am I ever to see you again?" remarked Coligny with a melancholic sigh. "Oh, the country life! The family life!" The Admiral remained in silent meditation for a moment, then he added:
"Leave me alone. I have some writing to do."
The equerry left the room. Monsieur Coligny stepped slowly towards the table, drew a campstool near, and sat down upon it. With his forehead resting on his hand he remained long lost in revery, musing to himself:
"Why should this thought have come to me to-day, more than any other day? I know not. God inspires me. Let us listen to His warnings. At any rate, it is well to have our accounts clear with heaven. Besides, it is my duty to answer before God and men the accusations that are preferred against me. It is my duty to answer the capital and defaming sentence that has been hurled against me and mine."
Taking a scroll from the table, the Admiral read:
"As the principal author of and leader in the conspiracy and rebellion gotten up against the King and his State, the said Sieur of Coligny is sentenced to be hanged and strangled upon the Greve Square, and subsequently to be exposed from the gibbet of Montfaucon. His goods revert to and are confiscate by the King. His children are declared forfeit of their noble rank, infamous, and disqualified from holding office or owning any property in the kingdom. Fifty thousand gold ecus are promised to whomsoever will deliver the said Sieur of Coligny, dead or alive. The children of his brother Dandelot are likewise declared infamous."
Coligny flung back upon the table the scroll containing the extract of the royal decree, registered in the Parliament of Paris on May 27, 1569, and raising his tearful eyes heavenward, exclaimed in accents of profound grief:
"My poor and good brother! They killed you treacherously by poison! Your children are orphans, with none but myself for their support—and now a price is set upon my own life! To-day, to-morrow, in battle, or otherwise, God may call me to Him! Oh, let me at least carry with me the consolation that my own and my brother's orphans will remain entrusted to worthy hands!"