Send me here Olivier."
Tristan bowed gravely and turned on his heel. In his heart he was
inclined to a kind of contempt for the monarch's humours. When there
was a chance of hanging a man, it seemed to him a waste of time to
play the fool in this fashion. The cat and mouse policy was never
Tristan's way. He was ever for the dog's way with the rat.
Louis resumed his restless walk with his hands folded behind him and
his head thrust forward as if he were scanning the ground for some
lost object. His mind was busy revolving many thoughts. He knew very
well how precarious his position was, how unpopular he was with his
people, how strong were the forces that the Duke of Burgundy had
arrayed against him, how little he could count upon the allegiance
of the people of Paris if once the enemy were able to put a foot
within the walls of the capital city. He was very ambitious, he was
very confident, he was very brave, and yet he felt that ambition,
confidence and courage were not enough at that crisis to give his
throne support. The superstitious side of his nature turned
restlessly to the unknown and his spirit dived into crystals or
soared among the spinning planets, struggling for occult
enlightenment.
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