I had no love for the League or the
Lorraines. I was fighting in Navarre's ranks when I was made prisoner at
Ivry."
"You were spying for Navarre. It was before the fight we caught you. You
had been hanged and quartered in that gray dawn had I not recognized
you, after twelve years, as my brother's son. I cut the rope from you
and embraced you for your father's sake. You rode forth a cornet in my
army, instead of dying like a felon on the gallows."
"You had your ends to serve," Lucas muttered.
"I took you into my household," Mayenne went on. "I let you wear the
name of Lorraine. I did not deny you the hand of my cousin and ward,
Lorance de Montluc."
"Deny me! No, you did not. Neither did you grant it me, but put me off
with lying promises. You thought then you could win back the faltering
house of St. Quentin by a marriage between your cousin and the Comte de
Mar. Afterward, when my brother Charles dashed into Paris, and the
people clamoured for his marriage with the Infanta, you conceived the
scheme of forcing Lorance on him. But it would not do, and again you
promised her to me if I could get you certain information from the
royalist army. I returned in the guise of an escaped prisoner to Henry's
camp to steal you secrets; and the moment my back was turned you
listened to proposals from Mar again.
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