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"Sire, I blush for my looks. But your zealous soldiers would not let me from their clutches. I am just come from killing Paul de Lorraine." "What! the spy Lucas?" "Himself. And when I left the spot by way of the window in some haste, I was not expecting this honour, Sire." "Nor do I think you deserve it, ventre-saint-gris!" the king cried.
"He has the stones, then," said the king; "and I have the soil." He visited the royal tombs, and when he was shown that of Catherine de' Medici, " Ah!" said he smiling, "how well it suits her!" And, as he stood before Henry III.'s he said, "Ventre-saint-gris! There is my good brother; I desire that I be laid beside him."
"When M. le Duc came back to Paris," mademoiselle went on, "and it was known he had espoused your cause, Sire, Mayenne was so loath to lose the whole house of St. Quentin to you that he offered to marry me out of hand to M. de Mar. And he refused." "Ventre-saint-gris!" Henry cried. "We will marry you to a king's son. On my honour, mademoiselle " "Sire," she pleaded, "you promised to hear me."
"Ventre-saint-gris, and likewise par le sang-bleu!" he said, "the first time I have had a king! Segrave, ye must leave me these few little yellow toys, else I cannot pay for my lodgings to-night.... I'll give you a bill ... but I've had enough of this, by Gad!" And somewhat sobered, though still unsteady, he rose from the table. "Surely, my lord, you are not leaving off, too?" asked Segrave.
He offered me to him for his son, M. de Mar." "And you are still Mlle. de Montluc?" She turned to Monsieur with the prettiest smile in the world. "M. de St. Quentin, though he has not fought for you, Sire, has ever been whole-heartedly loyal." "Ventre-saint-gris!" the king exclaimed. "He is either an incredible loyalist or an incredible ass!"
"I'll warrant he did!" the king answered, suppressing, however, in deference to her distress, his desire to laugh. "Ventre-saint-gris, mademoiselle! forgive me if this amuses me here at St. Denis. I trow it was not amusing in the Hôtel de Lorraine." "He sent for me, Sire," she went on, blanching at the memory; "he accused me of shielding M. de Mar. It was true. He called me liar, traitor, wanton.
Now I ask, 'Why cannot copper be freed from this last, and refined to gold?" "Yes," answered the expert, "it can, if one uses atramentum or the philosopher's stone." "What is that?" "Atramentum is copperas." "Ventre-saint-gris! that is Plato's iron! Now I see! Who taught you that?" "I learnt it from the greatest living magician in Wittenberg. His name is Dr.
"Ventre-saint-gris!" swore Endicott with an unmistakable British accent in the French expletive, "but I'll play no more.... The bank is broken ... and I have lost too much money. Mr. Segrave there has nearly cleaned me out and still I cannot break his luck." He rose abruptly from his chair, even as Mistress de Chavasse quietly walked away from the table.
"But ventre-saint-gris!" ejaculated Lord Walterton, who showed an inclination to become quarrelsome in his cups, "we must have someone to take Endicott's place, I cannot work my system hic ... if so few play...." "Perhaps your young friend, Sir Marmaduke ..." suggested Mistress Endicott, waving an embroidered handkerchief in the direction of Richard Lambert.
"Ventre-saint-gris," said the king, "he might have made me wait a long while; I should not have arrived so early." He knew that the Duchess of Nemours had desired peace, and when she allowed some signs of vexation to peep out at her not having been able to bring her sons and grandsons to that determination, "Madame," said he, a there is still time if they please."
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