“Ah, does he so?” exclaimed the king, laughing. “Well, we shall see now whether this holy Father will save this faithful son from the scaffold which we will erect for him. Yes, yes, we must give the world a new example of our incorruptible justice, which overtakes every one, however high and mighty he may be, and however near our throne he may stand. Really, really, it grieves our heart to lay low this oak which we had planted so near our throne, that we might lean upon it and support ourselves by it; but justice demands this sacrifice, and we will make it—not in wrath and spite, but only to meet the sacred and painful duty of our royalty. We have greatly loved this duke, and it grieves us to tear this love from our heart.”
And with his hand, glittering with jewels, the king wiped from his eyes the tears which were not there.
“But how?” asked the king, then, after a pause, “will you have the courage to repeat your accusation publicly before Parliament? Will you, his wife, and you, his mistress, publicly swear with a sacred oath to the truth of your declaration?”
“I will do so,” said the duchess, solemnly, “for he is no longer my husband, no longer the father of my children, but simply the enemy of my king; and to serve him is my most sacred duty.”
“I will do so,” cried Miss Holland, with a bewitching smile; “for he is no longer my lover, but only a traitor, an atheist, who is audacious enough to recognize as the holy head of Christendom that man at Rome who has dared to hurl his curse against the sublime head of our king. It is this, indeed, that has torn my heart from the duke, and that has made me now hate him as ardently as I once loved him.”
With a gracious smile, the king presented both his hands to the two women. “You have done me a great service to-day, my ladies,” said he, “and I will find a way to reward you for it. I will give you, duchess, the half of his estate, as though you were his rightful heir and lawful widow. And you, Miss Holland, I will leave in undisputed possession of all the goods and treasures that the enamored duke has given you.”
The two ladies broke out into loud expressions of thanks and into enthusiastic rapture over the liberal and generous king, who was so gracious as to give them what they already had, and to bestow on them what was already their own property.
“Well, and are you wholly mute, my little duchess,” asked the king after a pause, turning to the Duchess of Richmond, who had withdrawn to the embrasure of a window.
“Sire,” said the duchess, smiling, “I was only waiting for my cue.”
“And this cue is—”