"Sirs," said the King, looking with dignity around him, "grief for the death of his ally hath made your Prince frantic. I trust you know better your duty, as knights and noblemen, than to abet him in his treasonable violence against the person of his liege Lord."
At this moment was heard in the streets the sound of drums beating, and horns blowing, to call out the soldiery in every direction.
"We are," said Crèvecoeur, who acted as the Marshal of the Duke's household, "subjects of Burgundy, and must do our duty as such. Our hopes and prayers, and our efforts, will not be wanting to bring about peace and union between your Majesty and our liege Lord. Meantime, we must obey his commands. These other lords and knights will be proud to contribute to the convenience of the illustrious Duke of Orleans, of the brave Dunois, and the stout Lord Crawford. I myself must be your Majesty's chamberlain, and bring you to your apartments in other guise than would be my desire, remembering the hospitality of Plessis. You have only to choose your attendants, whom the Duke's cpmands limit to six."
"Then," said the King, looking around him, and thinking for a moment, – "I desire the attendance of Oliver le Dain, of a private of my Life-Guard, called Balafré, who may be unarmed if you will – of Tristan l'Hermite, with two of his people – and my right loyal and trusty philosopher, Martius Gpeotti."
"Your Majesty's will shall be complied with in all points," said the Count de Crèvecoeur. "Galeotti," he added, after a moment's enquiry, "is, I understand, at present supping in some buxom company, but he shall instantly be sent for; the others will obey your Majesty's command upon the instant."
"Forward, then, to the new abode, which the hospitality of our cousin provides for us," said the King. "We know it is strong, and have only to hope it may be in a corresponding degree safe."
"Heard you the choice which King Louis has made of his attendants?" said Le Glorieux to Count Crèvecoeur apart, as they followed Louis from the Hall.
"Surely, my merry gossip," replied the Count, – "What hast thou to object to them?"
"Nothing, nothing – only they are a rare election! – A panderly barber – a Scottish hired cutthroat – a chief hangman and his two assistants, and a thieving charlatan. – I will along with you, Crèvecoeur, and take a lesson in the degrees of roguery, from observing your skill in marshalling them. The devil himself could scarce have summoned such a synod, or have been a better president amongst them."
Accordingly, the all-licensed jester, seizing the Count's arm familiarly, began to march along with him, while, under a strong guard, yet forgetting no semblance of respect, he conducted the King towards his new apartment.[48]