"I do, sire," answered the chancellor, coming forward. "You have made your appeal, sir," he continued, addressing the old man, "and perhaps, if you can prove your statements, his majesty may graciously admit your rights without the trouble of carrying your claim before the courts. You have to show, first, that you are really the Count of St. Florent; secondly, that the young lady in question is legally to be looked upon as the daughter of that nobleman. Her birth, at present, is not at all established. None of these letters but one prove any thing, and that proves only a vague belief on the part of a prince long since dead."
The old man drew himself sternly up to his full height, which was very great, and said, "You ask me for bitter proofs, chancellor. Methinks you might know me yourself, for I first gave you a sword."
"I can be no witness in my own court," said the chancellor; "and the cause, if it be tried, must come before me."
"Stand forward, then, Jacques Cœur," cried the other. "Do you know your old friend?"
"Right well," answered Jacques Cœur, advancing from behind De Brecy. "This, please your majesty, is William, count of St. Florent. I have seen him at intervals of not more than two or three years ever since he disappeared from the court and army of France, and have received for him, and paid to him, the very small sum he has drawn from the revenues of St. Florent. If my testimony is not enough, I can bring forward twenty persons to prove his identity."
There was a dead silence for several moments; but then the chancellor said, addressing the king, "This may be, perhaps, admitted, sire. I have no doubt of the count's identity. But there is nothing to show any connection whatever between him and this young lady, whom the Duke of Orleans, in this letter, seems to have claimed as his daughter."
At these words, a fierce, eager fire seemed lighted up in the old man's eyes, and taking a step forward, he exclaimed, "Ay, such claim as a robber has to the gold of him whom he has murdered!" Then, suddenly stopping, he clasped his hands together, let his eyes fall thoughtfully, and murmured, "Forgive me, Heaven! Sire, I have forgot myself," he said, in a milder tone. "My right to the child is easy to prove. I was her mother's husband. She was born in marriage. I myself gave her into the arms of this young man," and he laid his hand upon De Brecy's shoulder. "With him she has ever been till the time you took her from him. Let him speak for himself. Did he not receive her from me?"
"Most assuredly I did," replied De Brecy; "and never even dreamed for a moment, at the time, that any one had a claim to her but yourself."
"Nor had they--nor have they," replied St Florent, sternly.
"But it is strange, good sir," said Charles, "that you should trust your child to the guardianship of another; that other a mere youth, and, from what I have heard, well-nigh a stranger to you."