“Mort-Dieu! am I to be told this?” cried Bourbon.
And he would have sprung from the couch, if the two physicians had not thrown themselves upon him, and held him forcibly down.
“You will betray yourself if you give way thus,” whispered Jean do l'Hôpital. “I pray your highness to be calm.”
Yielding to the advice, the Constable controlled himself by a great effort.
There was a pause, during which the spy remained intently watching the Constable.
“What answer shall I return to his majesty?” asked Warthy, at length.
“Say I will come,” replied Bourbon.
“Highness, it is not possible that you can travel,” said Jean de l'Hôpital. “His majesty cannot desire your death.”
“It would seem as though he did,” rejoined Bourbon. “But, be the consequences what they may, I will set out to-morrow. Tell his majesty so,” he added to Warthy. “When do you return to Lyons?”
“Within an hour,” was the reply. “I am charged to come back instantly, and, as I have relays of horses, I shall not be long on the road. His majesty will be well content with your highness's determination.”