We have to do justice."
"Ah! Justice," murmured La Fosse; "I have seen pictures of the
lady. She covers her eyes with a bandage, but is less discreet
where the other beauties of her figure are in question."
His Majesty blushed. He was above all things a chaste-minded man,
modest as a nun. To the immodesty rampant about him he was in the
habit of closing his eyes and his ears, until the flagrancy or the
noise of it grew to proportions to which he might remain neither
blind nor deaf.
"Monsieur de la Fosse," said he in an austere voice, "you weary me,
and when people weary me I send them away - which is one of the
reasons why I am usually so much alone. I beg that you will glance
at that hunting-book, so that when I have done with Monsieur de
Bardelys you may give me your impressions of it."
La Fosse fell back, obedient but unabashed, and, moving to a table
by the window, he opened the book Louis had pointed out.
"Now, Marcel, while that buffoon prepares to inform me that the
book has been inspired by Diana herself, tell me what else you have
to tell."
"Naught else, Sire."
"How naught? What of this Vicomte de Lavedan."
"Surely Your Majesty is satisfied that there is no charge - no
heedful charge against him?"
"Aye, but there is a charge - a very heedful one. And so far you
have afforded me no proofs of his innocence to warrant my sanctioning
his enlargement."
"I had thought, Sire, that it would be unnecessary to advance proofs
of his innocence until there were proofs of his guilt to be refuted.
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