“I am sorry to find you so unwell, cousin,” replied the king, regarding him as closely as the gloom of the chamber would permit, and coming to the conclusion that his illness was simulated.
Bourbon bore the scrutiny without embarrassment.
“The saints be praised that your majesty has come at a time when the fit has just left me,” he said, “and when I am secure from the attack lor a few hours. But I am greatly prostrated,” he added, feebly—“greatly prostrated.”
The king bade him be seated, adding, that he desired to confer with him in private, whereupon Bourbon signed to his attendants to withdraw.
Before quitting the chamber, Jean de l'Hôpital observed, in an undertone to the king, “His highness has been dangerously ill, sire, and is not yet out of danger.”
Then making an obeisance, he retired.
The chamberlain having placed a chair for the king near Bourbon's couch, likewise bowed and withdrew.
After glancing round to make sure they were quite alone, François said,
“I will deal plainly with you, cousin. Some disclosures have been made to me respecting your practices which I would willingly not believe, and before taking any steps to ascertain the truth of the reports, I have resolved to give you an opportunity of explanation.”
“My enemies have been at work, I perceive, sire,” said Bourbon, without manifesting the slightest uneasiness. “What has been told your majesty?”