in His armory that this vile thief should go
unblasted? Would you filch love as well as kingdoms?"

His ruddy face went white. "I love you, Katharine."

"Yes," she answered, "for I am your pretext. I can well believe,
messire, that you love your pretext for theft and murder."

Neither spoke after this, and presently the Earl of Warwick having come
to his peroration, the matter was adjourned till the next day. The
party separated. It was not long before Katharine had informed her
mother that, God willing, she would never again look upon the King of
England's face uncoffined. Isabeau found her a madwoman. The girl
swept opposition before her with gusts of demoniacal fury, wept,
shrieked, tore at her hair, and eventually fell into a sort of
epileptic seizure; between rage and terror she became a horrid,
frenzied beast. I do not dwell upon this, for it is not a condition in
which the comeliest maid shows to advantage. But, for the Valois,
insanity always lurked at the next corner, expectant, and they knew it;
to save the girl's reason the Queen was forced to break off all
discussion of the match. Accordingly, the Duke of Burgundy went next
day to the conference alone. Jehan began with "ifs," and over these
flimsy barriers Henry, already maddened by Katharine's scorn, presently
vaulted to a towering fury.

"Fair cousin," the King said, after a deal of vehement bickering, "we
wish you to know that we will have the daughter of your King, and that
we will drive both him and you out of this kingdom."

The Duke answered, not without spirit: "Sire, you are pleased to say
so; but before you have succeeded in ousting my lord and me from this
realm, I am of the opinion that you will be very heartily tired."

At this the King turned on his heel; over his shoulder he flung: "I am
tireless; also, I am agile as a fox in the pursuit of my desires. Say
that to your Princess." Then he went away in a rage.

It had seemed an approvable business to win love incognito, according
to the example of many ancient emperors, but in practice he had tripped
over an ugly outgrowth from the legendary custom. The girl hated him,
there was no doubt about it; and it was equally certain he loved her.
Particularly caustic was the reflection that a twitch of his finger
would get him Katharine as his wife, for in secret negotiation the
Queen-Regent was soon trying to bring this about; yes, he could get the
girl's body by a couple of pen-str