La Fosse fell back, obedient but unabashed, and, moving to a table by the window, he opened the book Louis had pointed out.

"Now, Marcel, while that buffoon prepares to inform me that the book has been inspired by Diana herself, tell me what else you have to tell."

"Naught else, Sire."

"How naught? What of this Vicomte de Lavedan."

"Surely Your Majesty is satisfied that there is no charge--no heedful charge against him?"

"Aye, but there is a charge--a very heedful one. And so far you have afforded me no proofs of his innocence to warrant my sanctioning his enlargement."

"I had thought, Sire, that it would be unnecessary to advance proofs of his innocence until there were proofs of his guilt to be refuted. It is unusual, Your Majesty, to apprehend a gentleman so that he may show cause why he did not deserve such apprehension. The more usual course is to arrest him because there are proofs of his guilt to be preferred against him."

Louis combed his beard pensively, and his melancholy eyes grew thoughtful.

"A nice point, Marcel," said he, and he yawned. "A nice point. You should have been a lawyer." Then, with an abrupt change of manner, "Do you give me your word of honour that he is innocent?" he asked sharply.

"If Your Majesty's judges offer proof of his guilt, I give you my word that I will tear that proof to pieces."

"That is not an answer. Do you swear his innocence?"

"Do I know what he carries in his conscience?" quoth I still fencing with the question. "How can I give my word in such a matter? Ah, Sire, it is not for nothing that they call you Louis the Just," I pursued, adopting cajolery and presenting him with his own favourite phrase. "You will never allow a man against whom there is no shred of evidence to be confined in prison."

"Is there not?" he questioned. Yet his tone grew gentler. History, he had promised himself, should know him as Louis the Just, and he would do naught that might jeopardize his claim to that proud title. "There is the evidence of this Saint-Eustache!"

"Would Your Majesty hang a dog upon the word of that double traitor?"

"Hum! You are a great advocate, Marcel. You avoid answering questions; you turn questions aside by counter-questions." He seemed to be talking more to himself than tome. "You are a much better advocate than the Vicomte's wife, for instance. She answers questions and has a temper--Ciel! what a temper!"

"You have seen the Vicomtesse?" I exclaimed, and I grew cold with apprehension, knowing as I did the licence of that woman's tongue.




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