"Look at them, Des Ursins," said the king; and the chancellor took them up.
"I can prove, my lord the king," said Juvenel de Royans, stepping forward, "that when last in Berri, Monsieur De Brecy was quite uncertain whose child the young lady was; for we had a long conversation on the subject when he gallantly threw himself into the citadel of this place, to aid us in defending it for your majesty."
"Silence! silence!" said the king; and taking up a paper, he held it out toward De Brecy, saying, "Did you sign that paper, sir?"
"No, sire," replied De Brecy; "I never saw it before."
"Then whose is it?" cried the king.
"Mine," replied the voice of an old man, in somewhat antiquated garments, standing a step or two behind Agnes Sorel. "I signed that paper, of right;" and advancing with a feeble step, he placed himself opposite the king.
"And who may you be, reverend sir?" demanded Charles, gazing at him with much surprise.
"The man whose name is there written," replied the stranger. "William, count of St. Florent; the only lawful guardian of the girl you wrangle for. You took my property and gave it to another. I heeded not, because I have no such needs now. But when you sought to take away the guardianship of this poor girl from him to whom I intrusted her, and to bestow her hand upon a knave, I came forward to declare and to maintain my rights. They have been dormant long; but they are not extinct. Each year have I seen her since she was an infant; each year have I performed some act of lordship in the fief of St. Florent; and I claim my right in the King's Court--my right to my estates--my right in my--" He paused for an instant, and seemed to hesitate; but then added, quickly, and in a tremulous voice, "in my child."
The king looked confounded, and turned toward the chancellor, who was at that moment speaking eagerly to Agnes Sorel, with the fell eyes of Jeanne of Vendôme fixed meaningly upon them both.
"Monsieur Des Ursins," said the king, "you hear what he says."