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Updated: June 18, 2025
"With enthusiasm; he has a memory, king as he is." "A mission from the king!" stammered Gorenflot. "Adieu," repeated Chicot. Gorenflot rose, and seized him by the hand. "Come! let us explain ourselves," said he. "On what?" "On your susceptibility to-day." "I! I am the same to-day as on all other days." "No." "A simple mirror of the people I am with. You laugh, and I laugh; you are rude, so am I."
"No, that is far too much; I am modest in my tastes, humble in my desires, and my title of ambassador does not make me proud; therefore 100 crowns will suffice." "Here they are; and the second thing?" "An attendant!" "An attendant?" "Yes, to accompany me; I love society." "Ah! my friend, if I were but free, as formerly." "But you are not." "Greatness enslaves me," murmured Gorenflot.
"Oh! you can invent some excuse to Gorenflot; he believes all you say," said Mayneville. "You will tell my brother all you know about the mission of M. de Joyeuse." "Yes, monseigneur." "And Navarre " said the duchess. "Oh! I charge myself with that," said Mayenne. "Let them saddle me a fresh horse, Mayneville." Then he murmured to himself, "Can he be still alive?"
"Pale and furious, and constantly crying out." "What?" "Take care of the king! they want to hurt the king! Then he constantly says that he expects a man from Avignon, and wishes to see him before he dies." As for Gorenflot, he grew visibly fatter every day, so much so, that he announced to Chicot with terror one day that the staircase was narrowing.
"May every enemy of our religion die thus," said he to Gorenflot. "Amen," replied the monk. These events passed about the same time that Bussy brought the Baron de Meridor back to his daughter. The month of April had arrived. The great cathedral of Chartres was hung with white, and the king was standing barefooted in the nave.
"If it will give you pleasure, my brother." Chicot half filled the monk's glass. Gorenflot drank it with great gravity. "I pronounce it better," said he. "You flatter our host." "A good drinker ought, at the first draught, to recognize the wine, at the second, the quality, and, at the third, the age." "Oh! I should like to know the age of this wine."
"I think that as long as he remains in Paris he will be in danger." "If I gave him guards." Gorenflot heard this proposition of Henri's. "Well!" thought he, "I shall get off with imprisonment; I prefer that to beating, if they only feed me well." "Oh! no, that is needless," said Chicot, "if you will allow me to take him with me." "Where?" "Home." "Well! take him, and then return to the Louvre."
Several voices repeated, "To arms!" "Par la mordieu!" said the king, "make this fellow hold his tongue, or he will make a second St. Bartholomew!" "Wait," said Chicot, and with his stick he struck Gorenflot with all his force on the shoulders. "Murder!" cried the monk. "It is you!" cried Chicot. "Help me, M. Chicot, help me!
He therefore began to watch each monk as he went out, and perceived to his terror that each, on going out, had to show some sign again. Gorenflot had told him how to get in, but not how to get out again. Chicot hastened to get down from his chair, and to mix among the monks so as to discover, if possible, what signs they used.
It now remains to us to speak of our chiefs, of whom it seems to me, poor monk as I am, that there is something to say. Certainly, it is very well and prudent to come at night under a monk's robe, to hear Brother Gorenflot preach; but it appears to me that their duties do not stop there. So much prudence may make the Huguenots laugh. Let us play a part more worthy of the brave people we are.
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