"I am old, or you children think so. I have at least seen the vanity of persecuting any man for the thought that is in his heart. I was bred a Catholic, yet have been persecuted by my brethren for differing from them. But I agree that most honest folk of the realm are of your brother's party—the brave, the wise, the single of eye and heart. There never will be a king in France till the Bearnais reigns."
The Professor spoke with a certain antique freedom, and the Princess, moved with a sudden impulse, laid her hand on his arm.
"You are with us, then, if not of us?" she said.
"I am of this young lady's party," smiled the Professor, turning to Claire, who had been listening quietly. There was a look of great love in his eyes.
"Then I must needs make sure of her!" said the princess, putting her arm about Claire's waist. "Mistress Claire, vow that you will recruit for our army!"
"Long ago one made me vow that vow!" said Claire. "I am not likely to betray the Cause for which my father died!"
The face of the Princess Catherine grew grave. She was thinking of her own father. Anthony of Bourbon had not made so good an end.
"I vowed my vow night and morning at my mother's knee," she said. "Thus it was she bade me promise, in these very words—'As I hope for Christ's dear mercy, I will live and I will die in the Faith given to the fishermen of Galilee. I will cleave to it, despising all other. Every believer, rich or poor, shall be my brother or my sister—they all princes and princesses in Jesus Christ, I only a poor sinner hoping in His mercy!'"
The Professor bowed his head, crossed himself instinctively, and said, "Amen to so good a prayer! At the end, it is ever our mother's religion which is ours!"