He shot one glance at the Countess. I could see them by moving the hangings slightly, and I didn’t scruple to look. The old Duke stood like a stone, wondering why he had been brought here, and as yet unable to comprehend the situation.
“You said that you wished to see me, Monsieur?” asked the Queen, disregarding his last remark.
“My desire gives place to Your Majesty’s.”
“And my will claims precedence of yours, Monsieur. Proffer your petition.”
“Your Majesty, I love devotedly the Comtesse de Villars. We were betrothed in childhood. The time for the carrying out of the contract our fathers made has arrived. I crave Your Majesty’s influence to persuade Mademoiselle de Villars to honor me.”
There was a certain amount of truth in the rascal’s words. I wondered if he really loved her a little bit, or whether it was only to get her money.
“But Mademoiselle de Villars doesn’t love you, Monsieur.”
“With Your Majesty’s aid I trust I shall be able to teach her to do so.”
“I fear that task is beyond you or me, Monsieur du Trémigon.”
“Permit me in Your Majesty’s own interest to dispute that assertion.”