Diana smiled, and replied, "No, sire, nothing exactly amiss; but I have had visiters this evening at an unusual hour, and they have been pressing me to obtain for them an audience of your majesty on this very night, regarding matters of much importance."
"Nay, why should that cloud your fair brow?" said the king, in the same low tone: "I will give them audience ere I go to bed, if my so doing will please you, bright queen of night. If they can put it off, however, let them come to-morrow, and your name shall open the doors of the cabinet to them, be they the lowliest in the land."
"That they are not, sire," replied Diana. "They are high enough to present themselves here this night even unbidden; but I fear that to-morrow will not do; for, upon your majesty's reply to them, a courier must depart at once for the South. Still let me say, ere they come forward—for I see them entering now—that it is not their requested audience that makes me somewhat grave; no, nor their pressing for it at an unseasonable hour, but it is that they come to urge upon your majesty the selfsame suit I urged this morning; and, as I then saw that for the first time I was doubted and suspected of art, in trying to lead rather than to argue with my king, it may now be thought I have some share in their coming, when, Heaven is my witness, it could take no one more by surprise than myself."
"Nay, but what is all this?" demanded the king, in a soothing tone; and then, suddenly turning to Mademoiselle de la Mark, he exclaimed, "Lo! Henriette—belle Henriette! here comes Damville, all love and ambergris, to claim your fair hand—for the dance. Go with him, lady! Now, Diana, what is this that agitates you thus? Faith, I suspect you not, and never have suspected. I did but smile this morning at your eagerness, though natural enough, and to see how we kings find soft leading, and all things prepared to bring us to that which wise or fair counsellors judge is for our good; it is the vice of power, my Diana, it is the vice of power! As men by years reach childhood again, so kings by power fall into weakness. But that matters not; your wishes were for the best; and, if there was a little management in the matter, there could be but small offence."
"With one so placable as you are, sire," rejoined the duchess, gazing in his face with a smile; "but the matter is this: There came to me this night the Lord of Masseran—one of your majesty's faithful adherents in Savoy—beseeching that I would obtain for him and for his fair lady immediate audience of your majesty on matters that brook no delay. He, judging wrongly that I had some little credit or influence with you, besought me to urge upon your majesty the immediate promulgation of the edict, so long delayed and often spoken of, concerning clandestine marriages, and besought me to tell you the cause of his application. All this I refused to do, telling him that on the subject of the edict I had already done my best; that I had pleaded for myself; that I had even pleaded in behalf of what I thought your majesty's best interest; and that, having done so, I could not say a word for any other being on the earth. Thus, sire, all I have to request is, that you would hear him and judge for yourself."
The expression of Henry's face while she was speaking puzzled not a little Diana of Poitiers. The king's brow became for a time dark and heavy, and his eye flashed angrily. But then, again, when he saw that the lady seemed somewhat alarmed by his look, he smiled upon her kindly, as if to mark that any feelings of dissatisfaction which he experienced were not directed towards herself. His real feelings were explained, however, immediately, by his replying in the same low tone, "He is, I believe, a most consummate villain, this Lord of Masseran; and there is good reason to suppose he has been playing false both to France and Savoy. He has the very look of a handsome wolf," the king continued, turning his frowning brow to the part of the room towards which the eyes of Diana of Poitiers directed his in search of the Lord of Masseran: "I will speak with him presently, however. Let him be taken into the white chamber, next to that in which they serve the confectionery. Send likewise for Bertrandi. He is in my closet. I will join you there in a quarter of an hour. A guard, too, may be wanted before we have done. So, as you pass, bid Beaujolais keep near the door."
Thus saying, the king turned away and occupied himself with other matters, speaking to the most distinguished persons present, and laughing gayly with many a fair dame as he passed along. The duchess remained for a short time where he had left her, not only for the purpose of preventing her long conversation with the king from connecting itself in the suspicions of those around with whatever might take place regarding the Lord of Masseran, but also because she had some doubts as to whether she should herself be present or not at the interview between the Savoyard nobleman and the king. Henry had certainly implied that she was to be present. But she had doubts and fears in regard to meddling too much with the matter; and, if she could have trusted to the Lord of Masseran, she certainly would have stayed away.
Trust him, however, she could not; for there was something in his whole aspect, demeanour, and tone which at once inspired suspicion. Indeed, he did not try to avoid it; for, looking upon skill, cunning, and acuteness as the greatest of human qualities, he made no pretence whatever to either frankness or sincerity. She still hesitated, however, when the Count de Meyrand, dressed in the most splendid, and, at the same time, the most tasteful habit that perhaps the whole court that night displayed, passed by her as he retired from the dance. He bowed as he did so with lowly reverence, but, at the same time, with a meaning glance of the eye towards the spot where the Lord of Masseran stood.
"I must watch what takes place myself," thought the duchess: "I will take no part in the matter unless there be great need; but I will watch all that is said and done."
She accordingly drew herself gradually back from the circle, and, choosing a moment when some change in the dance produced a momentary confusion, she retired to the room which the king had named.