Duc d'Alencon without
changing countenance, or without taking the slightest notice of this
terrible threat.

"The secret will die better with us if we both live than if one of us
were to die. Listen to me, and stop pulling at the handle of your sword.
For the third time I say that you are with a friend. Now tell me, did
not the King of Navarre refuse everything you offered him?"

"Yes, monseigneur, and I admit it, because my avowal can compromise only
myself."

"On leaving his room did you not stamp on your hat, and cry out that he
was a cowardly prince, and unworthy of being your leader?"

"That is true, monseigneur, I said that."

"Ah! you did? you admit it at last?"

"Yes."

"And this is still your opinion?"

"More than ever, monseigneur."

"Well, am I, Monsieur de Mouy, I, the third son of Henry II., I, a son
of France, am I a good enough gentleman to command your soldiers? Come,
now; do you think me loyal enough for you to trust my word?"

"You, monseigneur! you, the leader of the Huguenots!"

"Why not? This is an epoch of conversions, you know. Henry has turned
Catholic; I can turn Protestant."

"Yes, no doubt, monseigneur; so I am waiting for you to explain to me"--

"Nothing is easier; and in two words I can tell you the policy of every
one. My brother Charles kills the Huguenots in order to reign more
freely. My brother of Anjou lets them be killed because he is to succeed
my brother Charles, and because, as you know, my brother Charles is
often ill. But with me it is entirely different. I shall never reign--at
least in France--as long as I have two elder brothers. The hatred of my
mother and of my two brothers more than the law of nature keeps me from
the throne. I have no claim to any family affection, any glory, or any
kingdom. Yet I have a heart as great as my elder brother's. Well, De
Mouy, I want to look about and with my sword cut a kingdom out of this
France they cover with blood. Now this is what I want, De Mouy, listen:
I want to be King of Navarre, not by birth but by election. And note
well that you have no objection to this system. I am not a usurper,
since my brother refuses your offers, and buries himself in his torpor,
and pretends aloud that this kingdom of Navarre is only a myth. With
Henry of Bearn you have nothing. With me, you have a sword and a name,
Francois d'Alencon, son of France, protector of all his companions or
all his accomplices, as you are pleased to call them. W