“No, monseigneur, we have but just men enough to attack Antwerp, supposing we have only the inhabitants to deal with; and while we are engaged in the assault, William will fall on us with his eternal eight or ten thousand men, always destroyed and always reappearing by the aid of which be has kept in check during ten or twelve years the Duc d’Alva, Requesens, and the Duc de Parma.”

“Then you persist in thinking that we shall be beaten?”

“I do.”

“Well, it is easy for you to avoid it, M. de Joyeuse,” said the prince angrily; “my brother sent you here to aid me, but I may dismiss you, saying that I do not need aid.”

“Your highness may say so, but I would not retire on the eve of a battle.”

“Well, my dear admiral,” said the duke, trying to conciliate, “I may have been too jealous of the honor of my name, and wished too much to prove the superiority of the French army, and I may have been wrong.  But the evil is done; we are before armed men—­before men who now refuse what they themselves offered.  Am I to yield to them?  To-morrow they would begin to retake, bit by bit, what I have already conquered.  No! the sword is drawn; let us strike, or they will strike first.  That is my opinion.”

“When your highness speaks thus,” said Joyeuse, “I will say no more.  I am here to obey you, and will do so with all my heart, whether you lead me to death or victory; and yet—­but I will say no more.”—­“Speak.”

“No, I have said enough.”

“No, I wish to hear.”

“In private then, if it please your highness.”

All rose and retired to the other end of the spacious tent.

“Speak,” said Francois.

“Monseigneur may care little for a check from Spain, a check which will render triumphant those drinkers of Flemish beer, or this double-faced Prince of Orange; but will you bear so patiently the laughter of M. de Guise?”

Francois frowned.

“What has M. de Guise to do with it?” said he.

“M. de Guise tried to have you assassinated, monseigneur; Salcede confessed it at the torture, and, if I mistake not, he plays a great part in all this, and he will be delighted to see you receive a check before Antwerp, or even perhaps to obtain, for nothing, that death of a son of France, for which he had promised to pay so dearly to Salcede.  Read the history of Flanders, monseigneur, and you will see that the Flemings are in the habit of enriching their soil with the blood of princes, and of the best French warriors.”

The duke shook his head.

“Well, Joyeuse,” said he, “I will give, if it must be, the cursed joy to the Lorraines of seeing me dead, but not that of seeing me flying.  I thirst for glory, Joyeuse; for alone of all my name, I have still my battles to win.”

“You forget Cateau Cambresis, monseigneur.”

“Compare that with Jarnac and Montcontour, Joyeuse.”  Then, turning to the others, who were standing far off, he said, “Gentlemen, the assault is still resolved on; the rain has ceased, the ground is good, we will make the attack this night.”  Joyeuse bowed.