gave general pleasure at Court, for the Dauphin was Montmorency's close ally, and Queen Leonor and Madeleine de Montmorency were near and zealous companion.
These were all for the Grand Master. No one else was powerful enough to hazard a remonstrance. Yes; there was one—one unlikely and ridiculous Cassandra. Madame d'Étampes, hearing of the King's determination, prayed, wept, urged, implored Francis not to give that post to Montmorency. But for that wise once his pretty Anne begged of Francis all in vain.
In the spring of 1538 the ceremony took place. Leading the Queen of Navarre by the hand, Montmorency advanced to the steps of the throne. Francis, taking the sword of state from its scabbard, placed it, bare-bladed, in the Grand Master's hand. At that moment the heralds waved their flags and cried: "Vive de Montmorency, Connétable de France!" The rash deed was done.
Montmorency was now only second to the King. In addition to his immense wealth, his office of Constable brought him an income of £24,000 Tournois. Constable, Grand Master, Minister of Finance, Anne de Montmorency had virtually the kingdom at his command. He could rise no higher be no greater. Neither Francis nor Margaret could aid him more. He became henceforward less the servant than the rival of the King, chief in the Dauphin's rising Court, counsellor of the outraged Queen Leonor. He scarcely concealed his contempt for the magnificences and frivolities of Francis, nor his aversion for the Lutheran views of Margaret. No question now of repaying old benefits, of requiting a long affection. Montmorency, the harsh, frugal, inquisitorial, and dogmatic Con-
