lifting
up the tablets ran her eyes over them. Simon flung himself upon the
coffer, his sword between his knees, and began gnawing at his long
moustache, whilst De Mouchy stood between the two, his deep-set eyes
shifting from one to the other.

Suddenly Diane's red lips curved into a smile.

"_Eh bien_, De Mouchy! But you are building fine castles in Spain
here! See this, Orrain; he thinks to net Chatillon, the Admiral, and
the First Prince of the Blood!" And she broke into merry laughter.

"And why not, madame?" scowled De Mouchy.

Diane de Poitiers checked her laugh. "For the simple reason that the
house of Chatillon has become wise over D'Andelot's affair, and will
not set foot in Paris. As for Vendome, he must be dealt with
differently." And her dark eyes flashed ominously.

"Put the tablets aside for the present," Simon cut in, "and let us not
argue. We each form an angle of a triangle, and the triangle will be
nothing at all if one of the angles is taken away. Let us discuss
measures; we will take the names after. How did my proposal go at the
council to-day?"

"Approved," said De Mouchy. "And the Chambre Ardente can act whenever
the said court thinks fit."

"That is, when you, as president, think fit?"

"Precisely, Monsieur le Vidame."

"This, however, is not enough," Simon went on. "Another little
suggestion of mine, the suspension of the edicts, made, possibly, by
madame's merciful intercession with the King, has borne good fruit, and
Paris is full of heretics. But I presume that it is neither their
bodies nor their souls that we desire." And he looked at his two
companions.

De Mouchy preserved a scowling silence, but with a flush on her face
the Duchess said:

"I do not follow you, monsieur. We are good Christians, and we work
for Holy Church."

Simon leaned back, his knee between his clasped hands, and laughed a
bitter, mocking laugh.

"Eternal Blue! For Holy Church! Ha, ha, ha! Ho, ho, ho! Madame,
those sweet lips of yours drop pearls of wisdom." And he rocked to and
fro.

Deeper grew the crimson on the Duchess' cheek, and she opened and shut
her fan with an angry snap. She tried to say something; but her words
died away in a stammer, and her eyes drooped before Simon's cold and
mocking look.

"Come," said he, the master-vampire, "let us leave this talk of Holy
Church for the salons and the council. We three know what we want, and
to get it we need a grant from t