'His Majesty's word is law,' my patron answered, bowing low, and speaking in a clear voice audible throughout the chamber, 'but the matter which brings this gentleman here is of the utmost importance, and touches his Majesty's person.'
M. de Retz laughed jeeringly. The other courtiers looked grave. The king shrugged his shoulders with a peevish gesture, but after a moment's hesitation, during which he looked first at Retz and then at M. de Rambouillet, he signed to the Marquis to approach.
'Why have you brought him here?' he muttered sharply, looking askance at me. 'He should have been bestowed according to my orders.'
'He has information for your Majesty's private ear,' Rambouillet answered. And he looked so meaningly at the king that Henry, I think, remembered on a sudden his compact with Rosny, and my part in it; for he started with the air of a man suddenly awakened. 'To prevent that information reaching you, sire,' my patron continued, 'his enemies have practised on your Majesty's well-known sense of justice.'
'Oh, but stay, stay!' the king cried, hitching forward the scanty cloak he wore, which barely came down to his waist. 'The man has killed a priest! He has killed a priest, man!' he repeated with confidence, as if he had now got hold of the right argument.
'That is not so, sire, craving your Majesty's pardon,' M. de Rambouillet replied with the utmost coolness.
'Tut! Tut! The evidence is clear,' the king said peevishly.
'As to that, sire,' my companion rejoined, 'if it is of the murder of Father Antoine he is accused, I say boldly that there is none.'
'Then there you are mistaken!' the king answered. 'I heard it with my own ears this morning.'
'Will you deign, sire, to tell me its nature?' M. de Rambouillet persisted.