I time," said the Duke, "to wait till these whimsies are
changed with the next change of the moon.--Monseigneur d'Orleans,
she shall learn within this hour that obedience becomes matter of
necessity."

"Not in my behalf, Sire," answered the Prince, who felt that he could
not, with any show of honour, avail himself of the Duke's obstinate
disposition; "to have been once openly and positively refused is enough
for a son of France. He cannot prosecute his addresses farther."

The Duke darted one furious glance at Orleans, another at Louis, and
reading in the countenance of the latter, in spite of his utmost
efforts to suppress his feelings, a look of secret triumph, he became
outrageous.

"Write," he said, to the secretary, "our doom of forfeiture and
imprisonment against this disobedient and insolent minion. She shall to
the Zuchthaus, to the penitentiary, to herd with those whose lives have
rendered them her rivals in effrontery."

There was a general murmur.

"My Lord Duke," said the Count of Crevecoeur, taking the word for the
rest, "this must be better thought on. We, your faithful vassals, cannot
suffer such a dishonour to the nobility and chivalry of Burgundy. If the
Countess hath done amiss, let her be punished--but in the manner that
becomes her rank, and ours, who stand connected with her house by blood
and alliance."

The Duke paused a moment, and looked full at his councillor with the
stare of a bull, which, when compelled by the neat herd from the road
which he wishes to go, deliberates with himself whether to obey, or to
rush on his driver, and toss him into the air.

Prudence, however, prevailed over fury--he saw the sentiment was general
in his council--was afraid of the advantages which Louis might derive
from seeing dissension among his vassals; and probably--for he was
rather of a coarse and violent, than of a malignant temper--felt ashamed
of his own dishonourable proposal.

"You are right," he said, "Crevecoeur, and I spoke hastily. Her fate
shall be determined according to the rules of chivalry. Her flight
to Liege hath given the signal for the Bishop's murder. He that best
avenges that deed, and brings us the head of the Wild Boar of Ardennes,
shall claim her hand of us; and if she denies his right, we can at least
grant him her fiefs, leaving it to his generosity to allow her what
means he will to retire into a convent."

"Nay!" said the Countess, "think I am the daughter of Count Reinold