This last speech of Queen Joanna had a powerful effect upon the king's mind; for the possession of Navarre was in truth a matter of no small importance to the crown of France; and Philip would have parted with a great deal rather than that. Joanna had more than once threatened him with retiring to her own states, and he feared that she might one day carry this design into effect. After some consideration, therefore, he replied:
"You are offended without cause, madame. Who has told you that I intend to restore Flanders? I have not yet come to any determination on the subject."
"You have said enough to let your intentions be seen," answered Joanna. "But be that as it may, I tell you, that if you disregard me so far as to set my wishes and opinion at naught, I will leave you; I will not stay here to be exposed to the consequences of your want of prudence and foresight. The war against Flanders has exhausted your treasury and your people; and now that you have the means in your hands of retrieving yourself at the expense of the rebels, you are about to receive them into favor, and to give them all back again! Never have our finances been in a worse condition; that Messire de Marigny can tell you."
Thus appealed to, Enguerrand de Marigny addressed the king. "Sire," said he, "it is impossible we can continue to pay the troops you are maintaining, for the people can not or will not any longer pay the taxes. The Prevot des Marchands at Paris has refused the additional contribution; so that before long I shall not be able even to meet the daily expenses of your majesty's household. To carry the debasement of the coin, too, any farther is impossible. Our only resource, then, is Flanders, where the commissioners whom I have despatched are at this moment engaged in raising the money to help us out of our difficulties. Consider, sire, that in restoring this land to the Count, you deprive yourself of your last resource, and expose yourself to all the consequences of the existing embarrassments."
"What!" said Philip, in a tone of mistrust, "can it be that the whole of the last contribution levied upon the third estate is already expended?"
"Sire," replied De Marigny, "I have had to repay to Stephen Barbette the moneys which the farmers of the tolls at Paris had advanced. There remains but little or nothing in the treasury."
The queen saw with malicious joy the downcast air with which the king received this news, and she perceived that now was her opportunity for obtaining a final sentence of condemnation upon the old Count. Drawing near, therefore, to her husband with a well-dissembled return of gentleness, she thus spoke:
"You see well, sire, that my counsel is good. How can you lose sight of the interests of your own kingdom merely to favor these rebels? They have openly defied you; they have joined with your enemies, and have set at naught your just commands. Seeing that it is their wealth that thus puffs them up, and makes them insolent, nothing can be better in every way than to take from them this superfluity of riches; and as they have all justly deserved to die, they may well kiss your royal hand, and thank you that you do not also deprive them of their lives."
"But, Messire de Marigny," said the king, turning to his minister, "can you find no means of meeting the necessary expenses for some short time at least? For I hardly think that the moneys from Flanders will come in so quickly. What you tell me of the state of things disquiets me to the last degree."
"I know of no expedient, sire; we have already employed too many."
"Listen to me," interposed Joanna. "If you will follow my counsel, and deal with Guy as I desire, I will procure a loan on the credit of my kingdom of Navarre, so that we shall be set free from all anxiety for some time to come."
Whether from weakness or poverty, the king gave way, and agreed to all that Joanna required. The poor old Count was thus delivered into the hand of the traitress, in order to undergo the ceremony of a public humiliation, and then to be kept a prisoner, far away from his own land and people!
CHAPTER V
The evening was already far advanced when Joanna of Navarre arrived at Compiegne; and while with threats and cunning she was extorting from her vacillating husband the sentence of condemnation upon the House of Flanders, its unfortunate chief was sitting with his nobles in a large room of his lodging. The wine passed round again and again in silver goblets; and joyful hopes and pleasant anticipations formed the universal subject of conversation. More than one point had already been warmly discussed, when the door opened, and Diederik die Vos, who as Robert de Bethune's bosom friend, was lodged in the same house with the Count's family, entered the apartment.
For a while he stood without speaking, looking at the old Count and his sons, first at one, then at the other. His countenance bore an expression of deep affliction and intense compassion. Joyous and open as his bearing ever was, his comrades were not a little terrified at his unusual deportment; and they suspected that some evil news must have reached him, thus to overcast his countenance and disturb his spirit.
Robert de Bethune was the first to give expression to this feeling in words. "Have you lost your tongue, Diederik?" he exclaimed; "speak, and if you have bad news for us, spare your jests, I pray you."
"You need not fear my jesting, Lord Robert," was the reply. "But I know not how to tell you what I have to say; I can not bear to be a messenger of
