of Valois and was saying: `I am sorry, Brother, to have taken precedence of you, my elder.'
There was nothing Valois could do but obey. He went forward with his hands outstretched; the Count of Poitiers left them in the air.
`I shall be grateful to you, Uncle,' he said, `if you will sit on my Council.'
Valois turned pale. Only the day before he had been signing ordinances and sealing them with his seal. Today he was being offered, as if it were a great honour, a place on a Council to which he belonged by right.
`You will also hand over to us t he keys of the Treasury,' Phil ippe added, lowering his voice. `I kn ow that there is nothing in it but air. But I don' t want any more to blow away.'
Valois retreated. He was being asked to give up everything.
`Nephew, I cannot,' he replied. `I must have the accounts drawn up.'
`Are you really so anxious to put the accounts in order, Uncle?' said Philippe, with scarcely perceptible irony. `For we should then be compelled to look into them, and to examine also the administration of the sums confiscated from Enguerrand de Marigny. Give us the keys, and we will hold you exempt.'
Valois understood the threat. `Very well, Nephew; the keys will be brought you within the hour.'
Philippe extended his hands to receive the homage of his most powerful rival.
The Constable of France then came forward in his turn.
`Now, Gaucher,' Philippe whispered to him, `we must deal with the Burgundian.'
8. The Count of Poitiers' visits
THE COUNT OF POITIERS had no illusions. He had just had a first, quick and spectacular success; but he knew that his adversaries were not to be disarmed so easily.
As soon' as he had received the meaningless oath of loyalty from Monseigneur of Valois, Philippe crossed the palace to pay his respects to his sister-in-law, Clemence. He was accompanied by Anseau de Joinville and the Countess Mahaut. Hugues de Bouville, as soon as he saw Philippe, burst into tears and fell on his knees, kissing his hands. The ex-Chamberlain, though he was a member of the Council of Peers, had not put in an appearance at the afternoon's meeting; he had not left his post nor sheathed his sword during all these last hours. The assault on the palace by the Constable and the panic and departure of the Count of Valois' men had subjected his nerves to too harsh an ordeal.
`Forgive me, Monseigneur, forgive my weakness; it is from joy of seeing you back ...' he said, wetting the Regent's hands with his tears.
`It's all right, my friend, it's all right,' replied Philippe.
The old Joinville did not recognize the Count of Poitiers. Nor did he recognize his own son and, when he had been told three times that they stood before him, he mistook one for the other and bowed ceremoniously to Anseau.
Bouville opened the door of the Queen's room. But, as Mahaut made to follow Philippe, the Curator, recovering his energy, cried: `You alone, Monseigneur, you alone!'
And he shut the door in the Countess' face.
Queen Clemenc e was pale and weak and clearly did not share the preoccupations that excited the Court and the people of Paris. As she saw the Count of Poitiers come towards her, his hands outstretched, she could not help thinking: `If I had been married to him, I should not be a widow today. Why should it have been Louis? Why was it not Philippe?' She forbade herself questions of this nature, which seemed to her reproaches to Almighty God. But nothing, even piety, could prevent a widow of twenty-three from wondering why other young me n, other husbands, were alive.
P hilippe told her that he had assumed the Regency and assured her of his utter devotion.
`Oh, yes, Brother, oh yes,' she murmured, `help me!'
She wanted to say, without knowing how to express herself: `Help me to, live, help me against despair, help me to put into the world this new life which from now on is my only task on earth.' She went on: `Why did our Uncle Valois make me leave my house at Vincennes almost by force? Louis gave
There was nothing Valois could do but obey. He went forward with his hands outstretched; the Count of Poitiers left them in the air.
`I shall be grateful to you, Uncle,' he said, `if you will sit on my Council.'
Valois turned pale. Only the day before he had been signing ordinances and sealing them with his seal. Today he was being offered, as if it were a great honour, a place on a Council to which he belonged by right.
`You will also hand over to us t he keys of the Treasury,' Phil ippe added, lowering his voice. `I kn ow that there is nothing in it but air. But I don' t want any more to blow away.'
Valois retreated. He was being asked to give up everything.
`Nephew, I cannot,' he replied. `I must have the accounts drawn up.'
`Are you really so anxious to put the accounts in order, Uncle?' said Philippe, with scarcely perceptible irony. `For we should then be compelled to look into them, and to examine also the administration of the sums confiscated from Enguerrand de Marigny. Give us the keys, and we will hold you exempt.'
Valois understood the threat. `Very well, Nephew; the keys will be brought you within the hour.'
Philippe extended his hands to receive the homage of his most powerful rival.
The Constable of France then came forward in his turn.
`Now, Gaucher,' Philippe whispered to him, `we must deal with the Burgundian.'
8. The Count of Poitiers' visits
THE COUNT OF POITIERS had no illusions. He had just had a first, quick and spectacular success; but he knew that his adversaries were not to be disarmed so easily.
As soon' as he had received the meaningless oath of loyalty from Monseigneur of Valois, Philippe crossed the palace to pay his respects to his sister-in-law, Clemence. He was accompanied by Anseau de Joinville and the Countess Mahaut. Hugues de Bouville, as soon as he saw Philippe, burst into tears and fell on his knees, kissing his hands. The ex-Chamberlain, though he was a member of the Council of Peers, had not put in an appearance at the afternoon's meeting; he had not left his post nor sheathed his sword during all these last hours. The assault on the palace by the Constable and the panic and departure of the Count of Valois' men had subjected his nerves to too harsh an ordeal.
`Forgive me, Monseigneur, forgive my weakness; it is from joy of seeing you back ...' he said, wetting the Regent's hands with his tears.
`It's all right, my friend, it's all right,' replied Philippe.
The old Joinville did not recognize the Count of Poitiers. Nor did he recognize his own son and, when he had been told three times that they stood before him, he mistook one for the other and bowed ceremoniously to Anseau.
Bouville opened the door of the Queen's room. But, as Mahaut made to follow Philippe, the Curator, recovering his energy, cried: `You alone, Monseigneur, you alone!'
And he shut the door in the Countess' face.
Queen Clemenc e was pale and weak and clearly did not share the preoccupations that excited the Court and the people of Paris. As she saw the Count of Poitiers come towards her, his hands outstretched, she could not help thinking: `If I had been married to him, I should not be a widow today. Why should it have been Louis? Why was it not Philippe?' She forbade herself questions of this nature, which seemed to her reproaches to Almighty God. But nothing, even piety, could prevent a widow of twenty-three from wondering why other young me n, other husbands, were alive.
P hilippe told her that he had assumed the Regency and assured her of his utter devotion.
`Oh, yes, Brother, oh yes,' she murmured, `help me!'
She wanted to say, without knowing how to express herself: `Help me to, live, help me against despair, help me to put into the world this new life which from now on is my only task on earth.' She went on: `Why did our Uncle Valois make me leave my house at Vincennes almost by force? Louis gave
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