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Updated: June 28, 2025
To Stephen La Mothe's four-and-twenty with the spirit of eighteen the world of that May day was God's good world, and what better could it be than that!
Promptly the contents of the horn mug were flung with a splash into the open fireplace at La Mothe's back. "Just what I was at your age! The same to a hair! A gay companion generous of heart and purse. Yes," he went on, half seating himself on the table-edge and sucking down the wine with slow appreciative gulps, "'63; I knew I could not be mistaken, though it is four years since I tasted it last.
But I am not here to talk of Monsieur La Mothe's drinking bouts, though they explain much. You are in the King's service?" "As we all are; you and I and Monsieur La Mothe. Yes." "No quibble; you are paid to be faithful?" "As we all are; you and I and Monsieur La Mothe. Yes." "Villon, curb your impertinences. I'll not endure them."
"He knows too much," he said; "and when a man knows too much, not even a ballad can save him." But for two happenings by the way Stephen La Mothe's ride over the route taken twenty-four hours earlier by Commines was without event. Of these happenings one was bitter and one was sweet, and in mercy the bitter came first, leaving the sweet to comfort the end of the journey.
"Sire, sire," cried La Mothe, shaken out of himself by the gust of healthy emotion which seized him as the King's quiet voice grew in strength and fullness till it seemed to vibrate with as generous a passion as that which stirred the depths of the listener; "I am yours to use body and soul." "Body and soul," repeated Louis, his eyes fixed searchingly on La Mothe's face.
"Whisper," he said, patting La Mothe's arm fawningly, a wry smile twitching his lips, but leaving the watchful eyes cold. "We are alone, we two. Who put that thought into your head? Eh? Come now? Come now?" "No one, sire, on my honour, no one." "Honour? I know too much of the ways of men to trust men's honour. Swear, boy," he burst out again, passionately roused. "Swear on this.
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