"I am no Jacques Clement to stab and be massacred. You cannot buy such a
service of me, M. de Mayenne. If I do bravo's work for you I choose my
own time and way. I brought the duke to Paris, delivered him up to you
to deal with as it liked you. But you with your army at your back were
afraid to kill him. You flinched and waited. You dared not shoulder the
onus of his death. Then I, to help you out of your strait, planned to
make his own son's the hand that should do the deed; to kill the duke
and ruin his heir; to put not only St. Quentin but Mar out of your
way--"
"Let us be accurate, Paul," Mayenne said. "Mar was not in my way; he was
of no consequence to me. You mean, put him out of your way."
"He was in your way, too. Since he would not join the Cause he was a
hindrance to it. You had as much to gain as I by his ruin."
"Something--not as much. I did not want him killed--I preferred him to
Valere."
"Nor did I want him killed; so our views jibed well."
"Why not, then? Did you prefer him as your wife's lover to some other
who might appear?"
"I do not intend that my wife shall have lovers," Lucas answered.
Mayenne broke into laughter.
"Nom d'un chien, where will you keep her? In the Bastille? Lorance and
no lovers! Ho, ho!"
"I mean none whom she favours."
"Then why do you leave Mar alive? She adores the fellow," Mayenne said.
Pages:
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174