The Duke smiled. "I doubt not that, Catherine," he said; "you and your fair sister of Guise, who, I suppose, has some hand in the affair, are not such hard-hearted dames, I know, as to use harsh measures, when tender ones will do."
"Well, well, Mayenne," she answered, "if we bestow our smiles to promote your interest, you, at least, have no occasion to complain, good brother: but you consent, is it not so?"
"On condition that no harshness is used--that I know not where he is--that I see him not--and, that he finds no means for applying for liberation to me: for on the instant I set him free!"
"Manifold conditions!" replied his sister; "but they shall be all complied with. And now for the Count d'Aubin. If we can but win St. Real, I will promise you D'Aubin; for I know one or two of the good Count's secrets, which give me some tie upon him."
"I hold him by a stronger bond," replied the Duke; "the bond of interest, Catherine; for, by my faith, if he quit not soon him whom Beatrice of Ferrara calls the crowned Vice at St. Cloud, I will give the hand of Eugenie de Menancourt to some better friend of the League. I am glad he is come, for I may give him a gentle notice to decide more speedily."
At the name of Beatrice de Ferrara, the cheek of Madame de Montpensier reddened, and her brow contracted; and, without noticing the concluding words of her brother, she replied, "I hate that woman, that Beatrice of Ferrara!" and as she spoke, she moved absently towards the door. The Duke marked her with a smile, and followed, saying, "Well, well, where is this Count d'Aubin?"
The Duchess led the way to the apartment in which he had been left with the Duchess de Guise, and where she still found him, bandying repartees with the fair widow, and with the Chevalier d'Aumale, who had lately been added to the party. The entrance of the Duke of Mayenne, however, at once put a stop to the light jests which were flying thick and fast; and the Duke, without preface, entered upon the subject of D'Aubin's journey to Paris.
"Good morrow! Monsieur le Comte," said he, with an air of unconsciousness, which his somewhat inexpressive countenance enabled him easily to assume. "Right glad was I of your application for a safe-conduct last night, doubting not that, by this time, you are heartily tired of consorting with the effeminate rabble of painted minions and Huguenot boors gathered together at St. Cloud, and are come to support the Catholic faith, with a sharp sword, that has been somewhat too long employed against her."
"Your Highness's compliment to the sharpness of my sword," replied D'Aubin, "does not, I am afraid, extend to the sharpness of my wit; for the occurrences which have taken place within the last five days are surely not calculated to bring over a cousin of the Marquis of St. Real to the party of the Catholic League, or to raise very high the character of dealers in Spanish Catholicon."
The Duke of Mayenne turned a sharp and somewhat angry glance upon Madame de Montpensier; but to D'Aubin he replied coldly, "You seem angry, Monsieur le Comte d'Aubin; and as it is far from my wish to give just cause for anger to a French nobleman, whose good sense, I am sure, will, sooner or later, detach him from a party composed of all that is either infamous or heretical, if you will explain the subject of your wrath, I will do all that is in my power to satisfy you, if I shall find your complaints just and reasonable."