La
Fin approached to welcome him; and while holding his stirrup whispered
in his ear: "Courage, my master; speak out boldly, for they know
nothing." The Duke silently nodded his reply, and at once proceeded to
the royal chamber, where Henry received him with a gay countenance and
open arms, declaring that he had done well to accept his invitation, or
he should assuredly have gone to fetch him in person as he had
threatened. Biron excused himself, but with a coldness extremely
displeasing to the King, who, however, forebore to exhibit any symptom
of annoyance; and after a short conversation in which no further
allusion was made to the position of the Marechal, Henry, as he had
often previously done, proposed to show him the progress of the new
buildings upon which he was then actively engaged; and, leading the way
to the gardens, he did in fact for a time point out to him every object
of interest. This done, he suddenly turned the discourse upon the
numerous reasons for displeasure which the recent acts of Biron had
given him (being careful, nevertheless, not to betray the extent of his
knowledge), and earnestly urged him to confess the real amount of the
imprudence of which he had been guilty, pledging his royal word, that
should he do so with frankness and sincerity, the avowal would ensure
his pardon.

But this the infatuated Duke had no intention of conceding. The
whispered assurance of La Fin still vibrated on his ear, and he also
calculated largely on his intimacy with D'Auvergne, which secured to him
the influence of Madame de Verneuil. He consequently replied, with an
arrogance as unbecoming as it was misplaced, that he had not come to
Court to justify himself, but in order to ascertain who were his
accusers; and, moreover, added that, having committed no crime, he did
not require any pardon; nor could either Henry himself or the Duc de
Sully, with whom he had subsequently a lengthened interview, succeed in
inducing him to make the slightest confession.

The noonday repast was no sooner over than the King sent to summon the
Marechal to his closet, where he once more exerted every effort to
soften the obduracy of the man to whose valour he was well aware that
he had been greatly indebted for his crown, and whom he was consequently
anxious to save from dishonour and ignominy; but, unfortunately for his
own interests, Biron retained as vivid a recollection of the fact as
Henry himself; and he so highly estimated t