"Your majesty has acted toward this arrogant Austrian with a forbearance that is more than human. Well I know that your humane aversion to bloodshed has been in part the cause of your unparalleled magnanimity; but you have been thwarted in your choice of an Elector of Cologne; your claims to Alsatia and Lorraine have been set aside; the dower of her royal highness the Duchess of Orleans has been refused you; and patience under so many affronts has ceased to be a virtue. The honor of France must be sustained, and we must evoke, as a last resort, the demon of war."
"Gracious Heaven!" said the marquise, behind her curtain, "if he rouses the king's ambition, I shall occupy but a secondary position at the court of France, and he will be more influential than ever! Louis has already forgotten me, else he would call me to his side before he decides so weighty a matter."
The marquise was shrewd, and did not err in her speculations: Louis had indeed forgotten her presence. His heart was full of covetousness and resentment at the opposition of that presuming Leopold, who penetrated his designs upon the Rhenish provinces of the empire, and he thirsted for vengeance.
"Yes," replied he, "I have given an example of forbearance which must have astonished all Europe. I would have been glad to settle our differences in a Christian-like manner; but Leopold is deaf to all reason and justice—"
At this moment the king's voice was rendered inaudible by a loud cough which proceeded from the window wherein the marquise had retired from observation.
"My dear Francoise," exclaimed Louis, "come and take your part in this important council of war."
The hangings were parted, and out she stepped; slightly acknowledging the salute of the minister, she passed him by, and took an arm-chair at the side of the king.
"You have heard us discussing, have you not?" asked Louis.
"Yes, sire," sighed she, "I have heard every thing."
"Then you understand that it concerns my honor to make war upon
Germany?"