He vented his passion in one or two profane oaths, with the childish addition that we were all a set of traitors, and that he had no one whom he could trust.

But my companion had touched the right chord at last; for when the king grew more composed, he waved aside Marshal Retz's protestations, and sullenly bade Rambouillet say what he had to say.
'The monk was killed, sire, about sunset,' he answered.

'Now my nephew, M.d'Agen, is without, and will tell your Majesty that he was with this gentleman at his lodgings from about an hour before sunset last evening until a full hour after.

Consequently, M.de Marsac can hardly be the assassin, and M.le Marechal must look elsewhere if he wants vengeance.' 'Justice, sir, not vengeance.' Marshal Retz said with a dark glance.

His keen Italian face hid his trouble well, but a little pulse of passion beating in his olive cheek betrayed the secret to those who knew him.
He had a harder part to play than his opponent; for while Rambouillet's hands were clean, Retz knew himself a traitor, and liable at any moment to discovery and punishment.
'Let M.d'Agen be called,' Henry said curtly.
'And if your Majesty pleases,' Retz added, 'M.