Hubert. We, ourselves, have importuned this holy saint, and he has
proved marvellously helpful on parlous occasions.

"Louis, R."

The duke's anger was terrible and disgusting to behold. When his
transports of rage allowed him to speak, he broke forth with oaths too
blasphemous to write on a white page.

"The fawning hypocrite!" he cried. "He thinks to cozen us with his cheap
words. The biting insult in his missive is that he takes it for granted
that we are so great a fool as to believe him. Even his recommendation
of a saint is a lie. The world knows his favorite saint is Saint Andrew.
King Louis spends half his time grovelling on his marrow bones before
that saint and the Blessed Virgin. He recommends to us Saint Hubert,
believing that his holy saintship will be of no avail."

Charles was right. Sir Philip de Comines, seneschal to King Louis,
afterward told me that His Majesty, in writing this letter to the Duke
of Burgundy, actually took counsel and devoted much time and thought to
the choice of a baneful or impotent saint to recommend to his "noble
brother of Burgundy." Disaster to Louis had once followed supplication
to Saint Hubert, and the king hoped that the worthy saint might prove
equally unpropitious for Charles. Yolanda's wonderful "t" was certainly
the most stupendous single letter ever quilled. Here were the
first-fruits of it.

"Were it not that these self-sufficient Swiss need to be blooded, I
would turn my army against France to-morrow," said the duke.