“It is of the simplest,” Tavannes answered coolly. “And yet, as you just now said, I had hardly come at you without it. And I had to come at you. No, M. de Biron,” he added quickly, as Biron in a rage laid his hand on a bell which stood beside him on the table, “you cannot that way undo what is done.”
“I can at least deliver you,” the Grand Master answered, in heat, “to those who will deal with you as you have dealt with us and ours.”
“It will avail you nothing,” Count Hannibal replied soberly. “For see here, Grand Master, I come from the King. If you are at war with him, and hold his fortress in his teeth, I am his ambassador and sacrosanct. If you are at peace with him and hold it at his will, I am his servant, and safe also.”
“At peace and safe?” Biron cried, his voice trembling with indignation. “And are those safe or at peace who came here trusting to his word, who lay in his palace and slept in his beds? Where are they, and how have they fared, that you dare appeal to the law of nations, or he to the loyalty of Biron? And for you to beard me, whose brother to-day hounded the dogs of this vile city on the noblest in France, who have leagued yourself with a crew of foreigners to do a deed which will make our country stink in the nostrils of the world when we are dust! You, to come here and talk of peace and safety! M. de Tavannes”—and he struck his hand on the table—“you are a bold man. I know why the King had a will to send you, but I know not why you had the will to come.”
“That I will tell you later,” Count Hannibal answered coolly. “For the King, first. My message is brief, M. de Biron. Have you a mind to hold the scales in France?”
“Between?” Biron asked contemptuously.
“Between the Lorrainers and the Huguenots.”
The Grand Master scowled fiercely. “I have played the go-between once too often,” he growled.
“It is no question of going between, it is a question of holding between,” Tavannes answered coolly. “It is a question—but, in a word, have you a mind, M. de Biron, to be Governor of Rochelle? The King, having dealt the blow that has been struck to-day, looks to follow up severity, as a wise ruler should, with indulgence. And to quiet the minds of the Rochellois he would set over them a ruler at once acceptable to them—or war must come of it—and faithful to his Majesty. Such a man, M. de Biron, will in such a post be Master of the Kingdom; for he will hold the doors of Janus, and as he bridles his sea-dogs, or unchains them, there will be peace or war in France.”
“Is all that from the King’s mouth?” Biron asked with sarcasm. But his passion had died down. He was grown thoughtful, suspicious; he eyed the other intently as if he would read his heart.