“None, sire,” replied the Admiral. “I merely come to announce to you a most unexpected visitor. Not to keep you a moment in suspense, I will add that the Prince Mal-endurant has just arrived at the palace.”
“The Constable de Bourbon arrived here!” exclaimed the countess.
“His arrival is not unexpected,” replied the king, smiling. “In fact, I sent for him.”
“You sent for him, sire!” exclaimed Bonnivet, surprised, and exchanging a glance with the countess. “I did not suppose you would adopt such a course. If I had been aware of it, I would have counselled you against it.”
“And so would I,” added the countess.
“For that very reason, I did not mention my design,” remarked François. “What will you say, ma mie, if I should be reconciled to the Constable?” he added to the countess.
“I shall say that your majesty is not true to yourself,” she replied, unable to conceal her vexation.
“Reconciliation with Bourbon is impossible, unless the Duchess d'Angoulême will forego her claim—and she will never do that!” cried Bonnivet.
“Hum!” exclaimed François. “One cannot tell what may happen. I always pay the greatest deference to my mother's wishes, and, as she has expressed a desire to see the Constable, I have sent for him.”
“It is strange I should hear nothing of this before, sire,” remarked Françoise de Foix, in a tone of pique.