He was scarcely removed when the Duke of Burgundy entered by the great entrance, and the King of Sicily by a small door behind the Duke of Berri. The former was alone, but the latter was followed by several of the officers of his household, and in the midst of them appeared a young girl, leaning on the arm of an elder woman dressed as a superior servant.
"I heard that Monsieur De Brecy was under examination," said Louis of Anjou, looking round, "accused of being accessory to the murder. Is he not here?"
"He has retired with a friend," said Seigneur André, who thought it his privilege to intermeddle with all conversation.
"The truth is, fair cousin," answered the King of Navarre, "we have found him a very obstinate personage to deal with, setting at naught the authority of the council, and refusing to answer the questions propounded to him. We have therefore been compelled to employ means which usually make recusants answer."
"Good God! I hope not," exclaimed the Duke of Anjou. "Here is a young lady who can testify something in his favor."
He turned as he spoke toward the young girl who had followed him into the hall, and who has more than once appeared upon the scene already. She was deadly pale, but those energies which afterward saved France failed her not now. She loosed her hold of the old servant's arm, on which she had been leaning, took a step forward, and, with her hands clasped, exclaimed, "In God's name, mighty princes, forbear! Send a messenger, if you would save your own peace, and countermand your terrible order. I know not why you have doomed an innocent man to torture, but right sure I am that somehow he has brought such an infliction on his head by honesty, and not by crime; by keeping his faith, not by breaking it."
"They are made for each other," said the King of Navarre, coldly. "They both speak in the same tone. Who is she, cousin of Sicily?"
"Mademoiselle De St. Geran--Agnes Sorel," answered the Duke of Anjou, in a low tone. "One of the maids of honor to my wife."
But Agnes took no notice of their half-heard colloquy, and, turning at once with quick decision and infinite grace toward the Duke of Burgundy, who sat with his head leaning on his hand, and his eyes fixed upon the table, she exclaimed, "My lord the Duke of Burgundy, I beseech you to interfere. You know this young man--you know he is faithful and true--you know he refused to betray the secret of his lord, even at your command, and dared your utmost anger. You know he is not guilty."
"I do," said the Duke of Burgundy, rising, and speaking in a hoarse, hollow tone. "My lords, he is not guilty--I am sure. Suspend your order, I beseech you. Send off to the Châtelet, and let him--"