is nothing in it to your discredit."

"Yes, monseigneur, certainly. I have nothing to hide. I have always
been the King's most humble, faithful, devoted----"

"Leave that aside. Come to your tale and tell the whole truth."

"Of course, monseigneur. Hugues came to me----"

"When did Hugues go to you?" It was Ursula de Vesc who spoke. From
his place behind her La Mothe could see the upward defiant tilt of the
head as she asked the question.

"Let him tell his story his own way," said Commines, "or you will
confuse him."

"As you will, but Hugues is dead and cannot defend himself," and the
defiance passed as, with a sigh, the girl sank wearily into her chair,
felt La Mothe's hand where it rested upon the back, and leaned hastily
forward, then settled slowly into her place again. As for Stephen La
Mothe, the beating of his heart quickened, but he stood unmoved. The
touch comforted them both.

"Hugues came two days ago----"

"That was the second time. When did he come first?"

"Three weeks ago, monseigneur."

"Are you sure?"

"It was a week before your lordship came to Amboise. I remember it
perfectly because----"

"Never mind why; that you remember and are sure of the day is enough.
I want you to be exact. It was a week before Monsieur La Mothe and I
arrived?"

"Yes, monseigneur." Saxe had thrown off his nervousness. He no longer
shuffled his feet but stood breast square to the world. Commines'
questions had loosened the thread of his story, and he was ready to run
it off the reel without a tangle. "He said the King was very sick in
Valmy, so sick and full of suffering that every hour of life was an
hour of misery. It would be pure happiness, said he, pure charity and
a blessing if such a life were ended. He was sure the King himself had
no wish to live."

"That," said Ursula de Vesc, her eyes fixed on vacancy, "is so very
like what we all know of His Majesty."

"Yes, mademoiselle. Then he went on to say that those who helped the
poor suffering King to relief would be his best friends, and it ought
to be no surprise if there were such friends."

"Were there names mentioned?"

"No, monseigneur, not then."

"But this afternoon you told me----"

"I thought Saxe was to tell his story his own way?" broke in Ursula de
Vesc, tartly.

"Mademoiselle de Vesc, you cannot know the peril you stand in."

"Peril from what, Monsieur d'Argenton?"

"from the justice of the King."

"If it be