And, I fear me, I stood before him and his satellites - the mocking
Saint-Eustache amongst them - a very foolish figure.
"There is no more to be said," I murmured at last.
"But there is!" he retorted. "There is much more to be said. You
shall render yet an account of your treason, and I am afraid, my
poor rebel, that your comely head will part company with your shapely
body. You and I will meet at Toulouse. What more is to be said
will be said in the Tribunal there."
A chill encompassed me. I was doomed, it seemed. This man, ruling
the province pending the King's arrival, would see to it that none
came forward to recognize me. He would expedite the comedy of my
trial, and close it with the tragedy of my execution. My professions
of a mistake of identity - if I wasted breath upon them would be
treated with disdain and disregarded utterly. God! What a position
had I got myself into, and what a vein of comedy ran through it -
grim, tragic comedy, if you will, yet comedy to all faith. The very
woman whom I had wagered to wed had betrayed me into the hands of
the very man with whom I laid my wager.
But there was more in it than that. As I had told Mironsac that
night in Paris, when the thing had been initiated, it was a duel
that was being fought betwixt Chatellerault and me - a duel for
supremacy in the King's good graces. We were rivals, and he desired
my removal from the Court. To this end had he lured me into a
bargain that should result in my financial ruin, thereby compelling
me to withdraw from the costly life of the Luxembourg, and leaving
him supreme, the sole and uncontested recipient of our master's
favour.
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