And he looked so meaningly at the king that Henry, I think, remembered on a sudden his compact with Rosny, and my part in it; for he started with the air of a man suddenly awakened.

'To prevent that information reaching you, sire,' my patron continued, 'his enemies have practised on your Majesty's well-known sense of justice.' 'Oh, but stay, stay!' the king cried, hitching forward the scanty cloak he wore, which barely came down to his waist.

'The man has killed a priest! He has killed a priest, man!' He repeated with confidence, as if he had now got hold of the right argument.
That is not so, sire, craving your Majesty's pardon, M.de Rambouillet; replied with the utmost coolness.
'Tut! Tut! The evidence is clear,' the king said peevishly.
'As to that, sire,' my companion rejoined, 'if it is of the murder of Father Antoine he is accused, I say boldly that there is none.' 'Then there you are mistaken!' the king answered.

'I heard it with my own ears this morning.' 'Will you deign, sire, to tell me its nature ?' M.de Rambouillet persisted.
But on that Marshal Retz thought it necessary to intervene.

'Need we turn his Majesty's chamber into a court of justice ?' he said smoothly.
Hitherto he had not spoken; trusting, perhaps, to the impression he had already made upon the king.
M.de Rambouillet took no notice of him.
'But Bruhl,' said the king, 'you see, Bruhl says--' 'Bruhl!' my companion replied, with so much contempt that Henry started.
'Surely your Majesty has not taken his word against this gentleman, of all people ?' Thus reminded, a second time, of the interests entrusted to me, and of the advantage which Bruhl would gain by my disappearance, the king looked first confused, and then angry.