Count Hannibal | Page 7

I didn't. But there, it's settled.
They've settled it, and I would it were done! What do you think of--of it,
man? What do you think of it, yourself?"
Count Hannibal's face was inscrutable. "I think nothing, sire," he said
dryly. "It is for your Majesty and your council to think. It is enough for
me that it is the King's will."
"But you'll not flinch?" Charles muttered, with a quick look of
suspicion. "But there," with a monstrous oath, "I know you'll not! I
believe you'd as soon kill a monk--though, thank God," and he crossed
himself devoutly, "there is no question of that--as a man. And sooner
than a maiden."
"Much sooner, sire," Tavannes answered grimly. "If you have any
orders in the monkish direction--no? Then your Majesty must not talk
to me longer. M. de Rochefoucauld is beginning to wonder what is
keeping your Majesty from your game. And others are marking you,
sire."
"By the Lord!" Charles exclaimed, a ring of wonder mingled with
horror in his tone, "if they knew what was in our minds they'd mark us
more! Yet, see Nancay there beside the door? He is unmoved. He looks
to-day as he looked yesterday. Yet he has charge of the work in the
palace--"
For the first time Tavannes allowed a movement of surprise to escape
him.

"In the palace?" he muttered. "Is it to be done here, too, sire?"
"Would you let some escape, to return by-and-by and cut our throats?"
the King retorted, with a strange spirt of fury; an incapacity to maintain
the same attitude of mind for two minutes together was the most fatal
weakness of his ill-balanced nature. "No. All! All!" he repeated with
vehemence. "Didn't Noah people the earth with eight? But I'll not leave
eight! My cousins, for they are blood-royal, shall live if they will recant.
And my old nurse, whether or no. And Pare, for no one else
understands my complexion. And--"
"And Rochefoucauld, doubtless, sire?"
The King, whose eye had sought his favourite companion, withdrew it.
He darted a glance at Tavannes.
"Foucauld? Who said so?" he muttered jealously. "Not I! But we shall
see. We shall see! And do you see that you spare no one, M. le Comte,
without an order. That is your business."
"I understand, sire," Tavannes answered coolly. And after a moment's
silence, seeing that the King had done with him, he bowed low and
withdrew; watched by the circle, as all about a King were watched in
the days when a King's breath meant life or death, and his smile made
the fortunes of men. As he passed Rochefoucauld, the latter looked up
and nodded.
"What keeps brother Charles?" he muttered. "He's madder than ever to-
night. Is it a masque or a murder he is planning?"
"The vapours," Tavannes answered, with a sneer. "Old tales his old
nurse has stuffed him withal. He'll come by-and-by, and 'twill be well if
you can divert him."
"I will, if he come," Rochefoucauld answered, shuffling the cards. "If
not 'tis Chicot's business, and he should attend to it. I'm tired, and shall
to bed."

"He will come," Tavannes answered, and moved, as if to go on. Then
he paused for a last word. "He will come," he muttered, stooping and
speaking under his breath, his eyes on the other's face. "But play him
lightly. He is in an ugly mood. Please him, if you can, and it may
serve."
The eyes of the two met an instant, and those of Foucauld--so the King
called his Huguenot favourite--betrayed some surprise; for Count
Hannibal and he were not intimate. But seeing that the other was in
earnest, he raised his brows in acknowledgment. Tavannes nodded
carelessly in return, looked an instant at the cards on the table, and
passed on, pushed his way through the circle, and reached the door. He
was lifting the curtain to go out, when Nancay, the Captain of the
Guard, plucked his sleeve.
"What have you been saying to Foucauld, M. de Tavannes?" he
muttered.
"I?"
"Yes," with a jealous glance, "you, M. le Comte."
Count Hannibal looked at him with the sudden ferocity that made the
man a proverb at Court.
"What I chose, M. le Capitaine des Suisses!" he hissed. And his hand
closed like a vice on the other's wrist. "What I chose, look you! And
remember, another time, that I am not a Huguenot, and say what I
please."
"But there is great need of care," Nancay protested, stammering and
flinching. "And--and I have orders, M. le Comte."
"Your orders are not for me," Tavannes answered, releasing his arm
with a contemptuous gesture. "And look you, man, do not cross my
path to-night. You know our motto? Who touches my brother, touches
Tavannes! Be