The Admiral paused a moment, motioning us forward.
“Sire, there is news from Madrid to-day, and these are the gentlemen whom you wished to see, M. de Brésac, M. Killigrew and M. de Teligny.”
For the first time the King looked around toward us, smiling.
“Ah, M. de Teligny, I thought you boar-hunting in the South.”
“I did not go, Sire. A touch of the wound I had at Havre.”
“I have a great desire to hunt in the South.” And then petulantly, “Well, well, mon père, what is it this morning?”
“The matter of these Huguenots in Florida, Sire.”
“I thought it would be upon some matter of religious concern,” he muttered with a flash of ill-humor. “Catholic and Huguenot,—Huguenot and Catholic,—I am sick of you both.” Then seeing that Coligny, looking at his papers, remained grave and silent, the King sighed deeply and seized the Admiral impetuously by the hand.
“Pardon, my brave Counselor. What is it that you will?”