hesitating. "Why--I--Monseigneur,
have you nothing to say?"

"What is there to say?" answered the boy. "Do you think he loves me
any better than he did? Why are you in Amboise at all?"

It was only a bow at a venture, the ill-tempered fling of a petulant
boy, but the shaft struck home. Why was he in Amboise? His hope was
that the full purpose of his lengthened stay at the castle would never
be known, the truth would ruin him with the new King, ruin him utterly.
Hastily he searched his memory how far he had committed himself. Not
too deeply, he thought, so far as Charles was concerned. Ursula de
Vesc was of less consequence, and Saxe could always be made a
scapegoat. Saxe had lied, Saxe had deceived him, and, except Stephen
La Mothe, no one knew how ready he had been to be deceived. Perhaps
Saxe had also deceived the father? Yes, he would take that line, if
necessary; Saxe was the evil genius of them all, but the first
essential was to placate the boy with a generality. Liars and
successful diplomatists are rapid thinkers, and no too obvious a
silence followed Charles' blunt question.

"Monseigneur, for ten years I have been your father's trusted and
faithful servant----"

"Ursula, I am tired and shall go to bed. Thank you, Monsieur La Mothe,
but I do not think you need sleep at my door. To-night I shall be
safe. All the same, I would be Dauphin again if it could bring Hugues
back. I don't understand what it means to be King; perhaps in time I
shall see the difference. Good night, Ursula. I do not know what they
were saying to you, but they had better leave you in peace. Good
night, Monsieur La Mothe."

"The King is dead; long live the King! and service to the dead is soon
forgotten," said Commines bitterly as the door closed. The significant
ignoring of his presence had stung him to the quick. It might be said
it was only the rudeness of an ill-taught boy, but the boy was King of
France, and the suggestive omission was an evil augury to the hopes of
his unsatisfied ambition.

"Can you blame him? He is a very loyal boy, and was quite honest when
he said he would be the Dauphin again if that would bring Hugues back,
and as Dauphin he has been miserably unhappy."

"He is very fortunate in your love, mademoiselle." Commines had never
heard Villon's opinion, but it was his own, and he acted upon it
promptly. Win the girl and the boy will follow.

"I loved him for himself and for his unhappine