and reinforcements, but the Prince fortunately understood the character
of the Duke and of Conde, and comprehended the nature of French politics
too clearly to be led into extremities by passion or by pique. He said
loudly to any one that chose to listen:

"It is not necessary to ruin the son in order to avenge the death of the
father. That should be left to the son, who alone has legitimate
authority to do it." Nothing could be more sensible, and the remark
almost indicated a belief on the Prince's part in Mary's complicity in
the murder of her husband. Duplessis-Mornay was in despair, and, like all
true patriots and men of earnest character, felt it almost an
impossibility to choose between the two ignoble parties contending for
the possession of France, and both secretly encouraged by France's deadly
enemy.

The Treaty of Loudun followed, a treaty which, said du Maurier, had about
as many negotiators as there were individuals interested in the
arrangements. The rebels were forgiven, Conde sold himself out for a
million and a half livres and the presidency of the council, came to
court, and paraded himself in greater pomp and appearance of power than
ever. Four months afterwards he was arrested and imprisoned. He submitted
like a lamb, and offered to betray his confederates.

King James, faithful to his self-imposed part of mediator-general, which
he thought so well became him, had been busy in bringing about this
pacification, and had considered it eminently successful. He was now
angry at this unexpected result. He admitted that Conde had indulged in
certain follies and extravagancies, but these in his opinion all came out
of the quiver of the Spaniard, "who was the head of the whole intrigue."
He determined to recall Lord Hayes from Madrid and even Sir Thomas