'Thanks, sire,' said she, kissing him.
'Ha! what noise is that in the cabinet?—see, your dog snarls as if some one—'
''Tis mice, only mice, sire; but here are pen and ink; please to confirm these gifts; I deserve them, since I have been able to anticipate my enemy, the Cardinal.'
The King confirmed them by a line or two, which he handed to the Countess, saying,
'There is no man in all the Scottish Guard, I value more than Raynold Cheyne, or would trust more—'
'With anything, but a pretty girl, sire.'
'True, Madame de Bouillon has quite spoiled him; but favours to our soldiers are not thrown away at present; we have this day decided on the war with Lorraine.'
Through a chink in the old cabinet, I could perceive the Countess start with visible emotion at these words, and as she gave a furtive glance towards a part of the arras, I thought that a fair face, and a tress of golden hair were visible for a moment, as if some one was listening.
'Would not your Majesty rather send an envoy to the Duke, and seek to arbitrate this matter?'
'Countess, Richelieu means to send two envoys.'