“Monsieur de Retz is deceived by an excess of loyalty,” said Anjou quickly. “Because he bears a personal enmity to the Admiral, he conceives that it would hurt his honour to speak otherwise. It must savour to him, as he has said, of using his king and master to avenge his own personal wrongs. We can respect Monsieur de Retz's view, although we hold it mistaken.”
“Will Monsieur de Retz tell us what other course lies open?” quoth the bluff Tavannes.
“Some other course must be found,” cried the King, rousing himself. “It must be found, do you hear? I will not have you touch the life of my friend the Admiral. I will not have it—by the Blood!”
A hubbub followed, all speaking at once, until the King banged the table, and reminded them that his cabinet was not a fish-market.
“I say that there is no other way,” Catherine insisted. “There cannot be two kings in France, nor can there be two parties. For your own safety's sake, and for the safety of your kingdom, I beseech you so to contrive that in France there be but one party with one head—yourself.”
“Two kings in France?” he said. “What two kings?”
“Yourself and Gaspard I—King Coligny, the King of the Huguenots.”
“He is my subject—my faithful, loyal subject,” the King protested, but with less assurance.
“A subject who raises forces of his own, levies taxes of his own, garrisons Huguenot cities,” said Biragues. “That is a very dangerous type of subject, Sire.”
“A subject who forces you into war with Protestant Flanders against Catholic Spain,” added the blunt Tavannes.