to
divine the winning party, grinned broadly, whether they would or no.

To Marshal Retz, however, and Bruhl, that which to everyone else seemed
an amusing retort had a totally different aspect; while the former
turned yellow with chagrin and came near to choking, the latter looked
as chapfallen and startled as if his guilt; had been that moment brought
home to him. Assured by the tone of the monk's voice--which must,
indeed, have thundered in his ears--that my name was uttered in
denunciation by one who thought me his assailant, he had chosen to tell
the truth without reflecting that words, so plain to him, might; bear a
different construction when repeated.

'Certainly the words seem ambiguous,' Henry muttered.

'But it was Marsac killed him,' Retz cried in a rage.

'It is for some evidence of that we are waiting,' my champion answered
suavely.

The Marshal looked helplessly at Nevers and Mercoeur, who commonly took
part with him; but apparently those noblemen had not been primed
for this occasion. They merely shook their heads and smiled. In the
momentary silence which followed, while all looked curiously at Bruhl,
who could not conceal his mortification, M. d'Agen stepped forward.

'If your Majesty will permit me,' he said, a malicious simper crossing
his handsome face--I had often remarked his extreme dislike for Bruhl
without understanding it--'I think I can furnish some evidence more
to the point than that; to which M. de Bruhl has with so much fairness
restricted himself.' He then went on to state that he had had the honour
of being in my company at the time of the murder; and he added, besides,
so many details as to exculpate me to the satisfaction of any candid
person.

The king nodded. 'That settles the matter,' he said, with a sigh of
relief. 'You think so, Mercoeur, do you not? Precisely. Villequier, see
that the order respecting M. de Marsac is cancelled.'

M. de Retz could not control his wrath on hearing this direction given.
'At this rate,' he cried recklessly, 'we shall have few priests left
here! We have got a bad name at Blois, as it is!'

For a moment all in the circle held their breath, while the king's eyes
flashed fire at this daring allusion to the murder of the Duke de Guise,
and his brother the Cardinal. But it was Henry's misfortune to be ever
indulgent in the wrong place, and severe when severity was either unjust
or impolitic. He recovered himself with an effort, and revenged him