King Charles twisted the spaniel’s ears above its head, and eyed the effect pensively.
“He realizes, however, that it is not an easy matter for King Charles to drive the true Faith into his country—without assistance. But for such a cause—a cause that is ever nearest his heart—His Majesty would readily lend assistance.
“There is also another side, messieurs. For many years England and France have been enemies. His Majesty desires that this shall be so no longer. He would make a compact with England that should seal forever the friendship of two countries that lie at each other’s doors—two countries that are the most powerful in the world. He thinks it more than a pity that such countries should be at enmity, as must be the case if England allies herself with the Provinces.
“His Majesty knows that, together, England and France are all-powerful. Together they might do aught they pleased. It might be thought, messieurs, that His Majesty would be desirous of annexing England for his own. Such could never be the case. His Majesty would never interfere with England save at England’s wish. It might be thought that he would desire England to pay him tribute. He does not. If it should be that France makes war, he would want England to join her, should he call for help. He would share with King Charles, not the expenses, which he would pay himself, but the profits of war. He would hold himself bound to come to England’s aid if ever she should call, exacting naught in payment, messieurs, save a share in the profits. More than that even would he be prepared to do: he would bear all the expenses of any war of his making, and a large share of the expenses of a war on England’s side. You must agree, messieurs, that His Majesty is generous.”
Clifford moved, turning his head.
“To what ends, monsieur?”
“To the end, Sir Thomas, that he may prove himself England’s friend, and the Church’s friend.”
Clifford pursed his lips.
“If this be so, His Majesty is indeed generous,” he said.
The Frenchman inclined his head.
“There is another private matter,” he pursued, more slowly. “His Majesty apprehends that King Charles finds it difficult to live as should live a Monarch of his degree.” He turned to Charles. “Your Majesty will forgive me if I speak too plainly.”
Charles nodded casually.
“I thank Your Majesty. King Louis, I say, knows this. During the years of his exile, King Charles his purse was very surely drained, as was natural, in his efforts to come back to an ungrateful people. The many grievous losses that he sustained could not be repaid to him in full. His Majesty, my master, hath a great regard for his cousin; it grieves him to see King Charles in any way pressed for money. He, King Louis, has not had to bear such drains on his private purse, and he is, as you, messieurs, no doubt know, moderately wealthy. Because of this love which he bears King Charles, he is anxious to supply him with means wherewith to live as he should. He knows that King Charles is too noble, too kindly a man to tax his people as did—forgive me, Sire—his father. He thinks it little less than shameful that by reason of this true nobility of mind King Charles should be in want. Quite privately he would desire to make King Charles an allowance. This he could not do, as you must realize, messieurs, if England were at enmity with France. But this private matter has naught to do with the other matter of which I have already spoken. It is a gift from one cousin to another, if King Charles will have it so, and not deem himself insulted by King Louis his offer.”
There was a long pause.
Roxhythe played idly with the tassels of his glove, his face inscrutable. James was looking at Clifford, who sat staring into the fire.
“It is for you, Sir Thomas, to speak,” said the Duke at last.
Clifford raised his head. He spoke bluntly.
“M. Colbert, King Louis his offer would appear to be generous to an extreme. Yet this offer of money to His Majesty savours too much of bribery for my liking.”
The Duke of York stiffened. Over M. Colbert’s face came a look of pained surprise. Roxhythe stopped playing with his gloves. Only Charles paid no heed.
“Sir Thomas, I am sure you cannot realize that such a suggestion is little less than an insult to His Majesty!” said James harshly.
“And to my master,” came haughtily from Colbert.
“I crave His Majesty’s pardon if I offended,” answered Clifford, red to the ears. “But I still say that the offer has that appearance.”
James was about to reply, but with a deprecating smile Colbert forestalled him.
“You are perfectly right, Sir Thomas. To an evil-thinking world that to no man accords the desire to do good for goodness’ sake alone, King Louis’ entirely disinterested offer smacks of bribery. It is for this reason that he would wish the matter kept secret. He expects to gain nothing by this offer. It is made out of his love for King Charles, not from any desire of gain for himself. He could not, of course, voice such a proposal were England and France at disagreement. I have given you his reasons for wishing their friendship; this private offer to King Charles is no part of it. It has naught to do with the State; it is between man and man.
