"So, then, your lord gave you every facility of fulfilling the duties of your religion?"
"The greatest, Sire," replied the man. "Except when we were in Holland, where there was no Catholic church to be found, he has always driven me to mass as if with a scourge. Even at Morseiul, scarcely a Sunday passed without his telling me to go to mass, and asking me if I had been."
"This looks well for the young gentleman," said the King, seemingly well pleased with the account the man afforded. "We have had different stories at court--that he was rank and bigoted, and furious against the Catholic religion."
"Lord bless your Majesty!" exclaimed the man, "he is more than three quarters of a Catholic himself, and if the devil gets the other quarter it will only be because the Count is driven to him."
"Speak not profanely, Sir, of things that are serious," said the King, "nor presume, in my presence, to venture upon such jests."
As he spoke, the whole aspect of his countenance changed, his brow grew dark, his lip curled, his voice became deeper, his head more erect, and that indescribable majesty, for which he was famous, took possession of his person, making the unfortunate Jerome Riquet ready to sink into the earth.
"Now, Sir," continued the King, "be not frightened; but give me clear and straight-forward answers in a serious tone. What you have told me of your young lord is satisfactory to me. I am most anxious to do him good and to show him favour. I have marked his gallant conduct as a soldier, and his upright and noble demeanour as a French gentleman, and I would fain save him from the destruction to which obstinacy may lead him. You say that he is three parts a Catholic already, and would be one altogether if it were not--at least so I understand you--that some one drove him to the contrary conduct. Now, who is it drives him, Sir? Speak to me plainly and explicitly, and no harm shall come to you.--Have you lost your tongue, Sir, or are you struck dumb?" the King continued, seeing that Riquet remained silent, while his whole frame seemed to work with terror and agitation.
Perhaps, had his lord been there, he might have discovered, at once, that Riquet was working himself up to assume an immense deal more of terror than he really felt; but the King, conscious of having assumed an overawing look which he had often seen produce effects somewhat similar, believed the fear of the valet to be entirely real, and was not at all surprised to see Riquet suddenly cast himself at his feet and burst into an amazing flood of tears.
"If I have offended your Majesty," cried the man, with a species of orientalism which was not at all displeasing to the ears of the despotic monarch of the French, "if I have offended your Majesty, take my head! But you are now proceeding to question me upon matters in which what I have to tell and to speak of, may produce the most terrible results. I know not every word I utter that I may not be doing wrong--I know not that every word may not cost my life--and unless your Majesty will deign to grant me in writing your full and free pardon for all that I have done, I dare not, indeed I dare not go on; or if I do, terror will make me prevaricate, and attempt to conceal facts that the wisdom of your Majesty will soon discover."
"Nay, nay," exclaimed the King; "before I give you such pardon, my good friend, I must know to what it extends. You may have committed twenty crimes, for aught I know; you may be a relapsed heretic, for aught I know."