ning speech of the King to his nobles on the 18th of October, 1588.

Altogether, the privileges of our friends at this time were many, and
the Leaguers did not seriously incommode them. D'Epernon, who was
thoroughly loyal to Henry III., and for the time being, at least, meant
to keep the agreements made on his master's behalf with the Bearnais,
stood ready in Angouleme, with all the Royalists he could muster.

As far as Blois itself was concerned, however, the Guisards and the
champions of the League would have swamped all, save for the threat of a
strong Huguenot force hovering in the neighbourhood. This restless army
was occasionally reported from Tours, again from Loches, from Limoges,
so that the Leaguers, though of incomparable insolence, dared not, at
that time, push the King of France directly into the arms of the
Bearnais.

But we may as well hear the thing reported by eye-witnesses.

Cautiously, as was her custom, Madame Granier had peered through the
thick _grille_ of the water-door before admitting the Professor and the
Abbe John. Silent as a spectre Anthony Arpajon had entered from the
other side by his own private passage, locking the iron port behind him.
They sat together in Dame Granier's wide kitchen, without any lighting
of lamps or candles. But the wood burned red on the hearth, above which
Dame Granier kept deftly shifting the _pot-au-feu_, so that none of its
contents might be burned.

Each time she did so she thrust in underneath smaller branches, gleaned
from last year's willow-pollarding. The light flared up sharply with
little spitting, crackling noises, so that all in the kitchen saw each
other clearly.

Now they discussed matters from the standpoint of the Chateau. That was
the Professor, with a little assistance from John d'Albret, a poor
prince of the blood some-few-times-removed. They talked it over from the
point of view of the town. It was Anthony Arpajon who led, the widow
Granier adding a word or two. They heard, in a low whisper, the most
private states of mind of the King, seen only by those who had the right
to penetrate into his cabinet. It was a red-haired, keen-eyed fanatic
who spoke of this, with the accent and Biblical phraseology of
Geneva--namely, one Johannus Stirling, Doctor in Theology, commonly
denominated Jean-aux-Choux, the Fool of the Three Henries.

As for Claire Agnew, she gazed steadily into the fire, elbow on knee,
her rounded chin set in the palm of her hand