ointment."

"Why, you are already colonel-general of infantry, more would crush
you."

"In your majesty's service, I am a Samson."

"What is it, then?"

"I desire the command of these forty-five gentlemen."

"What! you wish to march at their head?"

"No; I should have a deputy; only I desire that they should know me as
their head."

"Well, you shall have it. But who is to be your deputy?"

"M. de Loignac, sire."

"Ah! that is well."

"He pleases your majesty?"

"Perfectly."

"Then it is decided?"

"Yes; let it be as you wish."

"Then I will go at once to the treasurer, and get my forty-five purses."

"To-night?"

"They are to find them to-morrow, when they wake."

"Good; then I will return."

"Content, sire?"

"Tolerably."

"Well guarded, at all events."

"By men who sleep."

"They will not sleep to-morrow, sire."

CHAPTER XIV.

THE SHADE OF CHICOT.

The king, as we have said, was never deceived as to the character of his
friends; he knew perfectly well that D'Epernon was working for his own
advantage, but as he expected to have had to give and receive nothing in
return, whereas he had got forty-five guards, he had thought it a good
idea. Besides, it was a novelty, which was a thing that a poor king of
France could not always get, and especially Henri III., who, when he had
gone through his processions, counted his dogs, and uttered his usual
number of sighs, had nothing left to do. Therefore he became more and
more pleased with the idea as he returned to his room.

"These men are doubtless brave, and will be perhaps very devoted,"
thought he; "and forty-five swords always ready to leap from their
scabbards are a grand thing."

This thought brought to his mind the other devoted swords that he
regretted so bitterly. He became sad again, and inquired for Joyeuse.
They replied that he had not returned.

"Then call my valets-de-chambre."

When he was in bed, they asked if his reader should attend, for Henri
was subject to long fits of wakefulness, and was often read to sleep.

"No," replied the king, "I want no one; only if M. de Joyeuse returns,
bring him to me."

"If he returns late, sire?"

"Alas! he is always late; but whatever be the hour, bring him here."

The servants extinguished the candles and lighted a lamp of essences,
which gave a pale blue flame, that the king liked. Henri was tired, and
soon slept, but not for long; he awoke, thinking he heard a noise in