He paused for a moment or two, to let all he said have its full effect, and then added, in a familiar tone, "Come, come, Monsieur de Montsoreau, see the matter in its true light. There is no possible chance of your obtaining the hand of Mademoiselle de Clairvaut, except by attaching yourself to the King's service, and defending the royal cause with the utmost zeal. If you persist in doing so simply as a voluntary act to be performed or remitted at pleasure, be you sure that as you make the King depend upon your good will for your services towards him, so will you be made to depend upon his good will, his caprices if you like, for the hand of Mademoiselle de Clairvaut. If, however, on the contrary, you frankly and generously determine to take service with the King, and bind yourself irrevocably to his cause, I do not scruple to promise you, under his hand, his full consent to your union with Mademoiselle de Clairvaut. I will give you the same consent under mine, assuming the title of her guardian. Your marriage cannot, of course, take place till the great struggle that is now impending is over. In a few months, nay, in a few weeks, the one party or the other--who are now directing their efforts against each other, instead of turning, as they ought, their united forces against the common enemies of our religion--must have triumphed over its adversary. I need not tell you which I feel, which I know, must be successful; but your part will now be, to exert yourself to the utmost, to traverse the country with all speed to Montsoreau, to raise every soldier that you can, and to gather every crown that you can collect, to join the King with all your forces, wherever he may be, and, by your exertions, to render that result certain, which is, indeed, scarcely doubtful even as it is; remembering that upon the destruction of the Duke of Guise's party, and upon the overthrow of his usurped and unreasonable power, depends not only the welfare of your King and master, but the realisation of your best and sweetest hopes."
"You grant all that I demand, Monsieur de Villequier," replied Gaspar of Montsoreau. "All I wish is the King's formal consent in writing, and yours, to my marriage with Marie de Clairvaut, as the condition of my absolute and public adhesion to the royal cause."
"I know," replied Villequier, "that I grant all you demand, and I was prepared to do so from the first, only we were led into collateral discussions as we went on. You will, of course, take an oath to the King's service, and confirm it under your hand."
"We will exchange the papers, Monsieur de Villequier," replied the Marquis, thinking himself extremely cautious. "But now, pray tell me, how ended the discussion with my brother?"
"The only way that it could end," replied Villequier, "when all parties were determined to evade his demand. The King, you may easily suppose, was not inclined to give the young heiress of Clairvaut to any of the partisans of an enemy. Epernon knew well that if the hand of a Guise were upon her shoulder, the ring of a La Valette would never pass upon her finger; and I, when last we met, had half given my promise to you, and was, at all events, determined that the question of wardship should be settled before I parted with her. The King, therefore, evaded the demands of the young Count, though he was not a little inclined to yield to them at one time, in order to pacify the Duke of Guise. However, I took the brunt of the business upon myself, and underwent the hot indignation of your brother, who thought to find in me an Epernon, or a Montsoreau, who would measure swords with him for an angry word."
"They had better be skilful as well as brave," said the young Marquis thoughtfully, "who measure swords with my brother Charles."
"Indeed!" said Villequier, "is he then so much a master of his weapon?"
"The most perfect I ever beheld--ay, more skilful now, than even our friend the Abbé de Boisguerin; though I have heard that, some years ago, when the Abbé was studying at Padua, he challenged the famous Spanish sword-player, Bobéz, to display his skill with him in the schools, in single combat, and hit him three times upon the heart without Bobéz touching him once."
"I remember, I remember!" cried Villequier. "The master broke the buttons from the swords in anger, and the student ran him through the body at the first pass, whereof he died within five minutes after in the Deacon's chamber."
"I never heard that he died," replied the Marquis with some surprise.