“Good, sire; but royal blood must not be shed upon a scaffold.”

“The royal blood! you believe that!” cried the king with fury in his voice, stamping his foot on the ground. “This double birth is an invention; and in that invention, particularly, do I see M. d’Herblay’s crime. It is the crime I wish to punish rather than the violence, or the insult.”

“And punish it with death, sire?”

“With death; yes, monsieur, I have said it.”

“Sire,” said the surintendant, with firmness, as he raised his head proudly, “your majesty will take the life, if you please, of your brother Philippe of France; that concerns you alone, and you will