is, after a moment's
glance at his commission; "we need not our cousin's letters of credence,
either to introduce to us a warrior so well known, or to assure us of
your highly deserved credit with your master. We trust that your fair
partner, who shares some of our ancestral blood, is in good health. Had
you brought her in your hand, Seignior Count, we might have thought you
wore your armour, on this unwonted occasion, to maintain the superiority
of her charms against the amorous chivalry of France. As it is, we
cannot guess the reason of this complete panoply."

"Sire," replied the ambassador, "the Count of Crevecoeur must lament
his misfortune, and entreat your forgiveness, that he cannot, on this
occasion, reply with such humble deference as is due to the royal
courtesy with which your Majesty has honoured him. But, although it is
only the voice of Philip Crevecoeur de Cordes which speaks, the words
which he utters must be those of his gracious Lord and Sovereign, the
Duke of Burgundy."

"And what has Crevecoeur to say in the words of Burgundy?" said Louis,
with an assumption of sufficient dignity. "Yet hold--remember, that
in this presence, Philip Crevecoeur de Cordes speaks to him who is his
Sovereign's Sovereign."

Crevecoeur bowed, and then spoke aloud: "King of France, the mighty Duke
of Burgundy once more sends you a written schedule of the wrongs and
oppressions committed on his frontiers by your Majesty's garrisons
and officers; and the first point of inquiry is, whether it is your
Majesty's purpose to make him amends for these injuries?"

The King, looking slightly at the memorial which the herald delivered
to him upon his knee, said, "These matters have been already long before
our Council. Of the injuries complained of, some are in requital of
those sustained by my subjects, some are affirmed without any proof,
some have been retaliated by the Duke's garrisons and soldiers; and if
there remain any which fall under none of those predicaments, we are
not, as a Christian prince, averse to make satisfaction for wrongs
actually sustained by our neighbour, though committed not only without
our countenance, but against our express order."'

"I will convey your Majesty's answer," said the ambassador, "to my most
gracious master; yet, let me say, that, as it is in no degree different
from the evasive replies which have already been returned to his
just complaints, I cannot hope that it will afford the means of