"For the
King, first. My message is brief, M. de Biron. Have you a mind to hold
the scales in France?"
"Between?" Biron asked contemptuously.
"Between the Lorrainers and the Huguenots."
The Grand Master scowled fiercely. "I have played the go-between once
too often," he growled.
"It is no question of going between, it is a question of holding
between," Tavannes answered coolly. "It is a question--but, in a word,
have you a mind, M. de Biron, to be Governor of Rochelle? The King,
having dealt the blow that has been struck to-day, looks to follow up
severity, as a wise ruler should, with indulgence. And to quiet the
minds of the Rochellois he would set over them a ruler at once acceptable
to them--or war must come of it--and faithful to his Majesty. Such a
man, M. de Biron, will in such a post be Master of the Kingdom; for he
will hold the doors of Janus, and as he bridles his sea-dogs, or unchains
them, there will be peace or war in France."
"Is all that from the King's mouth?" Biron asked with sarcasm. But his
passion had died down. He was grown thoughtful, suspicious; he eyed the
other intently as if he would read his heart.
"The offer is his, and the reflections are mine," Tavannes answered
dryly. "Let me add one more. The Admiral is dead.
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