He sighed sadly, as his keen, quick-glancing eyes passed over the kneeling forms of the Huguenots. He did not take very kindly to the lengthy services and plain-song ritual of those whom he led as never soldiers had been led before.
"Hal Guise hath the Religion,While I need absolution."
"Ha, long red-man," he called out presently, when all had risen decently from their knees, "you made sport for us at Nerac, I remember, and then went to my good brother-in-law's court in the suite of Queen Marguerite. What has brought you here?"
A tall man, dark and slim, leaned over and whispered in the King's ear.
"Ah," said the Bearnais, nodding his head, "I remember the reports. They were most useful. But the fellow is a scholar, then?"
"He is of Geneva," said the man at the King's ear, "and is learned in Latin and Greek, also in Hebrew!"
"No wonder he does his business with credit" the King smiled as he spoke; "there is no fool like a learned fool!"
With his constant good humour and easy ways with all and sundry, Henry of Navarre stepped forward and clapped Jean-aux-Choux on the shoulder.
"Go and talk to the pastor, D'Aubigné," said the King to his tall, dark companion; "I and this good fellow will chat awhile.
Sit down, man. I am not Harry of Navarre to-night, but Waggoner Henri in from Coutras with some barrels of Normandy cider. Do you happen to know a customer?"
"Ay, that do I," answered Jean-aux-Choux, fixing his eyes on the strong, soldierly face of the Bearnais, "one who has just arrived in this town, and may have some customs' dues to levy on his own liquor."
"And who may that be?" demanded the King.
"The Governor of Normandy," Jean answered "he and no other!"
"What D'Epernon?" cried the Bearnais, really taken by surprise this time.
"I have just left his company," said Jean; "he has with him many gentlemen, the Professor of Eloquence at the Sorbonne, the nephew of the Cardinal Bourbon "
"What, my cousin John the pretty clerk?" laughed Henry.
"He drives a good steel point," said Jean-aux-Choux; "it were a pity to make him a holy water sprinkler. I was too ugly to be a pastor. He is too handsome for a priest!"
"We will save him," said the Bearnais; "when our poor old Uncle of the Red Hat dies, they will doubtless try to make a king of this springald."
"He vows he would much rather carry a pike in your levies," said Jean-aux-Choux. "It is a brave lad. He loves good hard knocks, and from what I have seen, also to be observed of ladies!"
The Bearnais laughed a short, self-contemptuous laugh. "I fear we shall quarrel then, Cousin John and I," he said; "one Bourbon is enough in a camp where one must ride twenty miles to wave a kerchief beneath a balcony!"
"Also," continued Jean-aux-Choux, "there is with them my dear master's daughter, Mistress Claire "
"What, Francis Agnew's daughter?" The King's voice grew suddenly kingly.
Jean nodded.
"Then he is dead my Scot my friend? When? How? Out with it, man!"
"The Leaguers or the King's Swiss shot him dead the Day of the Barricades I know not which, but one or the other!"
The fine gracious lines of the King's face hardened. The Bearnais lifted his "boina," or flat white cap, which he had resumed at the close of worship, as was his right.
"They shall pay for this one day," he said; "Valois, King, and Duke of Guise what is it they sing? Something about
'The Cardinal and Henry and Mayenne, Mayenne!'
These were not the highest ideals of the Nazarene. But they suited a warring Church, and Henry of Navarre only voiced what was the feeling of all, from D'Aubigné the warrior to the pastor who sat in a corner by himself, thumbing his little Geneva Bible. There was no truce in this war. The League or the Bearnais! Either of the two must rule France. The present king, Henry of Valois, was a merry, sulky, careless, deceitful, kindly, cruel cipher the "man-woman," as they named him, the "gamin" king. He laughed and jested till he could safely thrust his dagger into his enemy's back. But as for his country, he could no more govern it than a puppet worked by strings.
"And this girl?" said the King, "is she of her father's brood, strong for the religion, and so forth?"
"She is young and innocent and very fair!"
The eyes of the Fool of the Three Henries met those of the Bearnais boldly, and the outlooking black eyes flinched before them.
"These Scottish maids are not as ours," said the King, perhaps in order to say something, "yet I think she was with her father in my camp, and shared his dangers."
"To the last she held up his dying head!" said Jean-aux-Choux. And quite unexpectedly to himself, his eyes were moist.
"And where at this moment is Francis Agnew's daughter?" said the King. Then he added, without apparent connexion, "He was my friend!"
But his intimates understood the word, and so, though a poor fool, did Jean-aux-Choux. Instinctively he held out his hand, as he would have done to a brother-Scot of his degree.
The King clasped it heartily, and those who were nearest noticed that his eyes also had a shine in them.