jealous monarch that ever lived,
was peculiarly averse and inaccessible to any one who seemed either to
presume upon service rendered or to pry into his secrets.

Yet, hurried away, as the most cautious sometimes are, by the self
satisfied humour of the moment, the Cardinal continued to ride on the
King's right hand, turning the discourse, whenever it was possible, upon
Crevecoeur and his embassy which, although it might be the matter at
that moment most in the King's thoughts, was nevertheless precisely
that which he was least willing to converse on. At length Louis, who had
listened to him with attention, yet without having returned any answer
which could tend to prolong the conversation, signed to Dunois, who rode
at no great distance, to come up on the other side of his horse.

"We came hither for sport and exercise," said he, "but the reverend
Father here would have us hold a council of state."

"I hope your Highness will excuse my assistance," said Dunois; "I am
born to fight the battles of France, and have heart and hand for that,
but I have no head for her councils."

"My Lord Cardinal hath a head turned for nothing else, Dunois," answered
Louis; "he hath confessed Crevecoeur at the Castle gate, and he hath
communicated to us his whole shrift.--Said you not the whole?" he
continued, with an emphasis on the word, and a glance at the Cardinal,
which shot from betwixt his long dark eyelashes as a dagger gleams when
it leaves the scabbard.

The Cardinal trembled, as, endeavouring to reply to the King's jest, he
said that though his order were obliged to conceal the secrets of
their penitents in general, there was no sigillum confessionis [seal of
confession] which could not be melted at his Majesty's breath.

"And as his Eminence," said the King, "is ready to communicate the
secrets of others to us, he naturally expects that we should be equally
communicative to him; and, in order to get upon this reciprocal footing,
he is very reasonably desirous to know if these two ladies of Croye
be actually in our territories. We are sorry we cannot indulge his
curiosity, not ourselves knowing in what precise place errant damsels,
disguised princesses, distressed countesses, may lie leaguer within our
dominions, which are, we thank God and our Lady of Embrun, rather
too extensive for us to answer easily his Eminence's most reasonable
inquiries. But supposing they were with us, what say you, Dunois, to our
cousin's peremp