It will effectually keep Louis from allying with Bourbon and
Lorraine, or some other prince, while I am away from home. They all hate
me, but not one of the cowards would say 'Booh!' unless the others were
back of him. A word from Louis would kindle rebellion in Liege and
Ghent. This war with Switzerland is what Louis has waited for; and when
I march to the south, he will march into Burgundy from the west unless
he has a counter motive."

"That is but too true, my lord," said Hymbercourt.

"But if my daughter marries the Dauphin, Louis will look upon Burgundy
as the property of the French kingship in the end, and the marriage will
frighten Bourbon and Lorraine to our feet once more. This hypocrite,
Louis, has concocted a fine scheme to absorb Burgundy into his realm by
this marriage with my daughter. But I'll disappoint his greed. I'll
whisper a secret in your ear, Hymbercourt,--a secret to be told to no
one else. I'll execute this treaty of marriage now, and will use my
crafty foe for my own purposes so long as I need him; but when I return
from Switzerland, I will divorce my present duchess and take a fruitful
wife who will bear me a son to inherit Burgundy; then King Louis may
keep the girl for his pains."

The duke laughed, and seemed to feel that he was perpetrating a great
joke on his rival.

"But your brother-in-law, Edward of England, may object to having his
sister divorced," suggested Hymbercourt.

"In that case we'll take a page from King Louis' book," answered
Charles. "We'll use gold, Hymbercourt, gold! I shall not, however, like
Louis, buy Edward's ministers! They are too expensive. I'll put none of
my gold in Hastings's sleeve. I'll pension Shore's wife, and Edward will
not trouble himself about his sister. He prefers other men's sisters. Do
not fear, Hymbercourt; the time has come to meet Louis' craft
with craft."

"And Your Grace's unhappy daughter is to be the shuttlecock, my lord?"
suggested Hymbercourt.

"She will serve her purpose in the weal of Burgundy, as I do. I give my
life to Burgundy. Why should not this daughter of mine give a few tears?
But her tears are unreasonable. Why should she object to this marriage?
Even though God should hereafter give me a son, who should cut the
princess out of Burgundy, will she not be queen of France? What more
would the perverse girl have? By God, Hymbercourt, it makes my blood
boil to hear you, a man of sound reason, talk like a fool. I hear the
same