He is plucking Bassompierre now.
Remembering that only that morning I had had to stop some
necessary works through lack of means, I could scarcely restrain
my indignation. But it was not the time to speak, and I
contented myself with repeating my request. Ashamed of himself,
he consented with a good grace, and bidding me go to his:
closet, followed a few minutes later. He found me cloaked to the
eyes, and with a soutane and priest's hat; on my arm. "Are those
for me?" he said.
"Yes, sire."
"Who am I, then?"
"The cure of St. Germain."
He made a wry face. "Come, Grand Master," he said; "he died
yesterday. Is not the jest rather grim?"
"In a good cause," I said equably.
He flashed a roguish look at me. "Ah!" he said, "I thought that
that was a wicked rule which only we Romanists avowed. But,
there; don't be angry. I am ready."
Coquet, the Master of the Household, let us out by one of the
river gates, and we went by the new bridge and the Pont St.
Michel. By the way I taught the King the role I wished him to
play, but without explaining the mystery; the opportune
appearance of one of my agents who was watching the end of the
street bringing Henry's remonstrances to a close.
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