"Oh!" said Schomberg, "is Bussy allied to the Brissacs?--since
St. Luc defends him."

"He is neither my friend nor relation, but he is my guest," said
St. Luc. The king gave an angry look. "Besides," he hastened
to add, "I do not defend him the least in the world."

Bussy approached gravely behind his pages to salute the king,
when Chicot cried:

"Oh, la! Bussy d'Amboise, Louis de Clermont, Comte de Bussy,
do you not see the true Henri, do you not know the true king
from the false? He to whom you are going is Chicot, my jester,
at whom I so often laugh."

Bussy continued his way, and was about to bow before the king,
when he said:

"Do you not hear, M. de Bussy, you are called?" and, amidst shouts
of laughter from his minions, he turned his back to the young
captain. Bussy reddened with anger, but he affected to take the
king's remark seriously, and turning round towards Chicot:

"Ah! pardon, sire," said he, "there are kings who resemble jesters
so much, that you will excuse me, I hope, for having taken a
jester for a king."

"Hein," murmured Henri, "what does he say?"