"I would be the first to wish your Grace long life, and herewith I proffer my service," said de Bornais, kneeling for a moment at the foot of the dais.
A few followed his example, some honestly enough, since they hated the Count, others making haste to put themselves forward prominently. But the greater number chose to take the seven days for consideration, and passed from the hall without kneeling.
De Bornais and his men, still with swords drawn, stood round the dais, the Duke's guard of honor, as the hall slowly emptied. Gaspard Lemasle had cleared the corridors, with the promise that the Duke should come presently on to the terrace above the court-yard and speak to his loyal subjects. The nobles passed to their lodgings in the castle, or waited in ante-rooms until they could be taken through the streets in safety. The murmur of the great crowd, like the distant ocean breaking on a rock-bound shore, could still be heard, but the excitement had died down. The thing that these men had come to do was accomplished.
Jean leaped from the embrasure of the window, and, waddling across the hall, seated himself on the lowest step of the dais, close to where Christine still stood immovable.
"Has Mademoiselle de Liancourt no word for us?" said Herrick, when the last of the nobles had gone.
She started at the sound of her name, but she did not speak.
"You gave us a certain promise, mademoiselle, which I warned you it would be hard to fulfil."
"So hard, sir, that it has already passed from my memory," she said.
"I feared so," Herrick returned quietly. "Later, perhaps, you will understand. Mademoiselle, with you I make no bargain. Take time for consideration, as long as you will. Though you hate me, I swear never to number you among my enemies."
"I understand," she said, turning to him quickly, "and I want no time for consideration. I shall never recognize your title to sit on the throne of Montvilliers. You have cleverly realized your ambition, and in a measure I have unwittingly helped you to it. Count me as you will, but I make no secret of my enmity. It shall last to the end, and those who plot against you shall find me a willing tool. It is not for nothing that I have loved this land, for the good of it I am prepared for any sacrifice, and am I, Christine de Liancourt, to bend the knee to an English adventurer, who, with the help of a fool and a mob and his own mother-wit, seizes the throne? To-night madness has run riot, the reaction has to come, and be very sure it will come. What real value is the support of a mob? To-day it shouts for you, to-morrow it will as easily shout for another. Live out your little dream, I promise you a rude awakening. To-night is yours, and I bow to circumstances which give you power to-night. Have I your leave to depart?"