"I hope it will not be so long, Sire," replied Villequier, now beginning, though indistinctly, to catch the King's meaning. "I hope it will not be so long."

"Ha, René! Do you understand me now?" said Henry. "Hark ye! Are you not this girl's guardian beyond all doubt, were the Duke out of the way?"

"Indubitably," answered Villequier; "for the only thing that affects my right, even now, is her father's will, appointing this same Henry, Duke of Guise to be her guardian: the other brothers are not named."

"Well then," said Henry, "have a contract of marriage in due and proper form drawn out, this very night, in the names of Marie de Clairvaut and Gaspar, Marquis of Montsoreau. Be in the revestry at the hour named, and bring with you your gay bridegroom with all his golden crowns. You shall sign the contract, and I will sign the contract, and we will find means I think to make the fair Lady sign the contract too, while the Duke of Guise's bridegroom discovers his way into a dungeon of the château. You have been so long absent, I feared you would not come in time to hear all this."

"Why, Sire," replied Villequier, "I was forced to be absent; for although your Majesty seems to have forgotten a certain paper given to the Abbé de Boisguerin, I have not."

"Ha!" said the King, "I had forgotten indeed. We must suppress that, Villequier; we must suppress that, if he will not consent to our plans; which, I see by your face, it is not your opinion that the worthy Abbé will do. You must get it from him and suppress it."

Villequier smiled at the very thought. "He will never give it up to be suppressed, Sire," replied the Marquis. "Your Majesty little knows the man."

"Well, then, suppress him!" said the King with a laugh; "suppress him, Villequier, and the paper with him. Under the great blaze made by this business of the Guise, his affair will be but as one of the wax tapers that a country girl, with a sore eye, buys for half a denier to hang up before St. Radigonde. Suppress him, Villequier; suppress him. I know no one so capable of sweeping the window clear of such flies."

"Yes, Sire," replied Villequier; "but he is a wasp, not a fly. He has antidotes for poison, and sureties against the knife. He has, besides, more powerful friends, it seems, than any of us believed, or at least more powerful means of gaining them. The Pope has been induced to set him free of his vows. I find, too, that Epernon sent for him immediately after that business of the attempt upon his life at Augoulême, and they are now sworn friends and comrades, levying forces together, holding counsel every other hour; and here is the former Abbé now disporting himself as Seigneur de Boisguerin; and, just like a butterfly that has cast its slough, he arrives in Blois last night in gilded apparel, with a train of twenty horse behind him, and a number of sumpter mules. I saw him in his gay attire near Augoulême, and find that he aspires to the hand of the fair heiress himself."

"But what is to be done, Villequier?" said the King smiling. "It seems to me that all the world are seeking her. Suppose we send for an auctioneer, and set her up aux enchères. But, to speak seriously, what will you do with this cidevant Abbé?"