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diff --git a/33609-8.txt b/33609-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..58fa6d3 --- /dev/null +++ b/33609-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,29890 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Marguerite de Valois, by Alexandre Dumas + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Marguerite de Valois + +Author: Alexandre Dumas + +Release Date: September 2, 2010 [EBook #33609] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGUERITE DE VALOIS *** + + + + +Produced by Chuck Greif and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + + + MARGUERITE DE + VALOIS BY ALEXANDRE + DUMAS.... + + NEW YORK, THOMAS Y. + CROWELL & COMPANY, + PUBLISHERS + + COPYRIGHT, 1900, + BY THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO. + + + + +CONTENTS. + + +CHAPTER PAGE + + I. MONSIEUR DE GUISE'S LATIN 1 + + II. THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE'S BEDCHAMBER. 13 + + III. THE POET-KING 25 + + IV. THE EVENING OF THE 24TH OF AUGUST, 1572 36 + + V. OF THE LOUVRE IN PARTICULAR, AND OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL 44 + + VI. THE DEBT PAID 53 + + VII. THE NIGHT OF THE 24TH OF AUGUST, 1572 64 + + VIII. THE MASSACRE 78 + + IX. THE MURDERERS 89 + + X. DEATH, MASS, OR THE BASTILLE 102 + + XI. THE HAWTHORN OF THE CEMETERY OF THE INNOCENTS 114 + + XII. MUTUAL CONFIDENCES 125 + + XIII. HOW THERE ARE KEYS WHICH OPEN DOORS THEY ARE NOT MEANT FOR 132 + + XIV. THE SECOND MARRIAGE NIGHT 142 + + XV. WHAT WOMAN WILLS, GOD WILLS 150 + + XVI. A DEAD ENEMY'S BODY ALWAYS SMELLS SWEET 164 + + XVII. MAÎTRE AMBROISE PARÉ'S CONFRÈRE 176 + + XVIII. THE GHOSTS 183 + + XIX. THE ABODE OF MAÎTRE RÉNÉ, PERFUMER TO THE QUEEN MOTHER 193 + + XX. THE BLACK HENS 204 + + XXI. MADAME DE SAUVE'S APARTMENT 210 + + XXII. "SIRE, YOU SHALL BE KING" 219 + + XXIII. A NEW CONVERT 224 + + XXIV. THE RUE TIZON AND THE RUE CLOCHE PERCÉE 236 + + XXV. THE CHERRY-COLORED CLOAK 248 + + XXVI. MARGARITA 257 + + XXVII. THE HAND OF GOD 263 + + XXVIII. THE LETTER FROM ROME 268 + + XXIX. THE DEPARTURE 274 + + XXX. MAUREVEL 280 + + XXXI. THE HUNT 284 + + XXXII. FRATERNITY 293 + + XXXIII. THE GRATITUDE OF KING CHARLES IX 300 + + XXXIV. MAN PROPOSES BUT GOD DISPOSES 306 + + XXXV. A NIGHT OF KINGS 316 + + XXXVI. THE ANAGRAM 324 + + XXXVII. THE RETURN TO THE LOUVRE 329 + +XXXVIII. THE GIRDLE OF THE QUEEN MOTHER 340 + + XXXIX. PROJECTS OF REVENGE 348 + + XL. THE ATRIDES 362 + + XLI. THE HOROSCOPE 372 + + XLII. CONFIDENCES 379 + + XLIII. THE AMBASSADORS 389 + + XLIV. ORESTES AND PYLADES 395 + + XLV. ORTHON 404 + + XLVI. THE INN OF LA BELLE ÉTOILE 415 + + XLVII. DE MOUY DE SAINT PHALE 423 + + XLVIII. TWO HEADS FOR ONE CROWN 430 + + XLIX. THE TREATISE ON HUNTING 441 + + L. HAWKING 448 + + LI. THE PAVILION OF FRANÇOIS I 456 + + LII. THE EXAMINATION 464 + + LIII. ACTÉON 473 + + LIV. THE FOREST OF VINCENNES 479 + + LV. THE FIGURE OF WAX 486 + + LVI. THE INVISIBLE BUCKLERS 497 + + LVII. THE JUDGES 503 + + LVIII. THE TORTURE OF THE BOOT 512 + + LIX. THE CHAPEL 520 + + LX. THE PLACE SAINT JEAN EN GRÈVE 525 + + LXI. THE HEADSMAN'S TOWER 530 + + LXII. THE SWEAT OF BLOOD 538 + + LXIII. THE DONJON OF THE PRISON OF VINCENNES 542 + + LXIV. THE REGENCY 547 + + LXV. THE KING IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE KING! 551 + + LXVI. EPILOGUE 556 + + + + +MARGUERITE DE VALOIS. + + + + + +CHAPTER I. + +MONSIEUR DE GUISE'S LATIN. + + +On Monday, the 18th of August, 1572, there was a splendid festival at +the Louvre. + +The ordinarily gloomy windows of the ancient royal residence were +brilliantly lighted, and the squares and streets adjacent, usually so +solitary after Saint Germain l'Auxerrois had struck the hour of nine, +were crowded with people, although it was past midnight. + +The vast, threatening, eager, turbulent throng resembled, in the +darkness, a black and tumbling sea, each billow of which makes a roaring +breaker; this sea, flowing through the Rue des Fossés Saint Germain and +the Rue de l'Astruce and covering the quay, surged against the base of +the walls of the Louvre, and, in its refluent tide, against the Hôtel de +Bourbon, which faced it on the other side. + +In spite of the royal festival, and perhaps even because of the royal +festival, there was something threatening in the appearance of the +people, for no doubt was felt that this imposing ceremony which called +them there as spectators, was only the prelude to another in which they +would participate a week later as invited guests and amuse themselves +with all their hearts. + +The court was celebrating the marriage of Madame Marguerite de Valois, +daughter of Henry II. and sister of King Charles IX., with Henry de +Bourbon, King of Navarre. In truth, that very morning, on a stage +erected at the entrance to Notre-Dame, the Cardinal de Bourbon had +united the young couple with the usual ceremonial observed at the +marriages of the royal daughters of France. + +This marriage had astonished every one, and occasioned much surmise to +certain persons who saw clearer than others. They found it difficult to +understand the union of two parties who hated each other so thoroughly +as did, at this moment, the Protestant party and the Catholic party; and +they wondered how the young Prince de Condé could forgive the Duc +d'Anjou, the King's brother, for the death of his father, assassinated +at Jarnac by Montesquiou. They asked how the young Duc de Guise could +pardon Admiral de Coligny for the death of his father, assassinated at +Orléans by Poltrot de Méré. + +Moreover, Jeanne de Navarre, the weak Antoine de Bourbon's courageous +wife, who had conducted her son Henry to the royal marriage awaiting +him, had died scarcely two months before, and singular reports had been +spread abroad as to her sudden death. It was everywhere whispered, and +in some places said aloud, that she had discovered some terrible secret; +and that Catharine de Médicis, fearing its disclosure, had poisoned her +with perfumed gloves, which had been made by a man named Réné, a +Florentine deeply skilled in such matters. This report was the more +widely spread and believed when, after this great queen's death, at her +son's request, two celebrated physicians, one of whom was the famous +Ambroise Paré, were instructed to open and examine the body, but not the +skull. As Jeanne de Navarre had been poisoned by a perfume, only the +brain could show any trace of the crime (the one part excluded from +dissection). We say crime, for no one doubted that a crime had been +committed. + +This was not all. King Charles in particular had, with a persistency +almost approaching obstinacy, urged this marriage, which not only +reëstablished peace in his kingdom, but also attracted to Paris the +principal Huguenots of France. As the two betrothed belonged one to the +Catholic religion and the other to the reformed religion, they had been +obliged to obtain a dispensation from Gregory XIII., who then filled the +papal chair. The dispensation was slow in coming, and the delay had +caused the late Queen of Navarre great uneasiness. She one day expressed +to Charles IX. her fears lest the dispensation should not arrive; to +which the King replied: + +"Have no anxiety, my dear aunt. I honor you more than I do the Pope, +and I love my sister more than I fear him. I am not a Huguenot, neither +am I a blockhead; and if the Pope makes a fool of himself, I will myself +take Margot by the hand, and have her married to your son in some +Protestant meeting-house!" + +This speech was soon spread from the Louvre through the city, and, while +it greatly rejoiced the Huguenots, had given the Catholics something to +think about; they asked one another, in a whisper, if the King was +really betraying them or was only playing a comedy which some fine +morning or evening might have an unexpected ending. + +Charles IX.'s conduct toward Admiral de Coligny, who for five or six +years had been so bitterly opposed to the King, appeared particularly +inexplicable; after having put on his head a price of a hundred and +fifty thousand golden crowns, the King now swore by him, called him his +father, and declared openly that he should in future confide the conduct +of the war to him alone. To such a pitch was this carried that Catharine +de Médicis herself, who until then had controlled the young prince's +actions, will, and even desires, seemed to be growing really uneasy, and +not without reason; for, in a moment of confidence, Charles IX. had said +to the admiral, in reference to the war in Flanders, + +"My father, there is one other thing against which we must be on our +guard--that is, that the queen, my mother, who likes to poke her nose +everywhere, as you well know, shall learn nothing of this undertaking; +we must keep it so quiet that she will not have a suspicion of it, or +being such a mischief-maker as I know she is, she would spoil all." + +Now, wise and experienced as he was, Coligny had not been able to keep +such an absolute secret; and, though he had come to Paris with great +suspicions, and albeit at his departure from Chatillon a peasant woman +had thrown herself at his feet, crying, "Ah! sir, our good master, do +not go to Paris, for if you do, you will die--you and all who are with +you!"--these suspicions were gradually lulled in his heart, and so it +was with Téligny, his son-in-law, to whom the King was especially kind +and attentive, calling him his brother, as he called the admiral his +father, and addressing him with the familiar "thou," as he did his best +friends. + +The Huguenots, excepting some few morose and suspicious spirits, were +therefore completely reassured. The death of the Queen of Navarre passed +as having been caused by pleurisy, and the spacious apartments of the +Louvre were filled with all those gallant Protestants to whom the +marriage of their young chief, Henry, promised an unexpected return of +good fortune. Admiral Coligny, La Rochefoucault, the young Prince de +Condé, Téligny,--in short, all the leaders of the party,--were +triumphant when they saw so powerful at the Louvre and so welcome in +Paris those whom, three months before, King Charles and Queen Catharine +would have hanged on gibbets higher than those of assassins. + +The Maréchal de Montmorency was the only one who was missing among all +his brothers, for no promise could move him, no specious appearances +deceive him, and he remained secluded in his château de l'Isle Adam, +offering as his excuse for not appearing the grief which he still felt +for his father, the Constable Anne de Montmorency, who had been killed +at the battle of Saint Denis by a pistol-shot fired by Robert Stuart. +But as this had taken place more than three years before, and as +sensitiveness was a virtue little practised at that time, this unduly +protracted mourning was interpreted just as people cared to interpret +it. + +However, everything seemed to show that the Maréchal de Montmorency was +mistaken. The King, the Queen, the Duc d'Anjou, and the Duc d'Alençon +did the honors of the royal festival with all courtesy and kindness. + +The Duc d'Anjou received from the Huguenots themselves well-deserved +compliments on the two battles of Jarnac and Montcontour, which he had +gained before he was eighteen years of age, more precocious in that than +either Cæsar or Alexander, to whom they compared him, of course placing +the conquerors of Pharsalia and the Issus as inferior to the living +prince. The Duc d'Alençon looked on, with his bland, false smile, while +Queen Catharine, radiant with joy and overflowing with honeyed phrases, +congratulated Prince Henry de Condé on his recent marriage with Marie de +Clèves; even the Messieurs de Guise themselves smiled on the formidable +enemies of their house, and the Duc de Mayenne discoursed with M. de +Tavannes and the admiral on the impending war, which was now more than +ever threatened against Philippe II. + +In the midst of these groups a young man of about nineteen years of age +was walking to and fro, his head a little on one side, his ear open to +all that was said. He had a keen eye, black hair cut very close, thick +eyebrows, a nose hooked like an eagle's, a sneering smile, and a growing +mustache and beard. This young man, who by his reckless daring had first +attracted attention at the battle of Arnay-le-Duc and was the recipient +of numberless compliments, was the dearly beloved pupil of Coligny and +the hero of the day. Three months before--that is to say, when his +mother was still living--he was called the Prince de Béarn, now he was +called the King of Navarre, afterwards he was known as Henry IV. + +From time to time a swift and gloomy cloud passed over his brow; +unquestionably it was at the thought that scarce had two months elapsed +since his mother's death, and he, less than any one, doubted that she +had been poisoned. But the cloud was transitory, and disappeared like a +fleeting shadow, for they who spoke to him, they who congratulated him, +they who elbowed him, were the very ones who had assassinated the brave +Jeanne d'Albret. + +Some paces distant from the King of Navarre, almost as pensive, almost +as gloomy as the king pretended to be joyous and open-hearted, was the +young Duc de Guise, conversing with Téligny. More fortunate than the +Béarnais, at two-and-twenty he had almost attained the reputation of his +father, François, the great Duc de Guise. He was an elegant gentleman, +very tall, with a noble and haughty look, and gifted with that natural +majesty which caused it to be said that in comparison with him other +princes seemed to belong to the people. Young as he was, the Catholics +looked up to him as the chief of their party, as the Huguenots saw +theirs in Henry of Navarre, whose portrait we have just drawn. At first +he had borne the title of Prince de Joinville, and at the siege of +Orléans had fought his first battle under his father, who died in his +arms, denouncing Admiral Coligny as his assassin. The young duke then, +like Hannibal, took a solemn oath to avenge his father's death on the +admiral and his family, and to pursue the foes to his religion without +truce or respite, promising God to be his destroying angel on earth +until the last heretic should be exterminated. So with deep astonishment +the people saw this prince, usually so faithful to his word, offering +his hand to those whom he had sworn to hold as his eternal enemies, and +talking familiarly with the son-in-law of the man whose death he had +promised to his dying father. + +But as we have said, this was an evening of astonishments. + +Indeed, an observer privileged to be present at this festival, endowed +with the knowledge of the future which is fortunately hidden from men, +and with that power of reading men's hearts which unfortunately belongs +only to God, would have certainly enjoyed the strangest spectacle to be +found in all the annals of the melancholy human comedy. + +But this observer who was absent from the inner courts of the Louvre was +to be found in the streets gazing with flashing eyes and breaking out +into loud threats; this observer was the people, who, with its +marvellous instinct made keener by hatred, watched from afar the shadows +of its implacable enemies and translated the impressions they made with +as great clearness as an inquisitive person can do before the windows of +a hermetically sealed ball-room. The music intoxicates and governs the +dancers, but the inquisitive person sees only the movement and laughs at +the puppet jumping about without reason, because the inquisitive person +hears no music. + +The music that intoxicated the Huguenots was the voice of their pride. + +The gleams which caught the eyes of the Parisians that midnight were the +lightning flashes of their hatred illuminating the future. + +And meantime everything was still festive within, and a murmur softer +and more flattering than ever was at this moment pervading the Louvre, +for the youthful bride, having laid aside her toilet of ceremony, her +long mantle and flowing veil, had just returned to the ball-room, +accompanied by the lovely Duchesse de Nevers, her most intimate friend, +and led by her brother, Charles IX., who presented her to the principal +guests. + +The bride was the daughter of Henry II., was the pearl of the crown of +France, was MARGUERITE DE VALOIS, whom in his familiar tenderness for +her King Charles IX. always called "_ma soeur Margot_," "my sister +Margot." + +Assuredly never was any welcome, however flattering, more richly +deserved than that which the new Queen of Navarre was at this moment +receiving. Marguerite at this period was scarcely twenty, and she was +already the object of all the poets' eulogies, some of whom compared her +to Aurora, others to Cytherea; she was, in truth, a beauty without rival +in that court in which Catharine de Médicis had assembled the loveliest +women she could find, to make of them her sirens. + +Marguerite had black hair and a brilliant complexion; a voluptuous eye, +veiled by long lashes; delicate coral lips; a slender neck; a graceful, +opulent figure, and concealed in a satin slipper a tiny foot. The +French, who possessed her, were proud to see such a lovely flower +flourishing in their soil, and foreigners who passed through France +returned home dazzled with her beauty if they had but seen her, and +amazed at her knowledge if they had discoursed with her; for Marguerite +was not only the loveliest, she was also the most erudite woman of her +time, and every one was quoting the remark of an Italian scholar who had +been presented to her, and who, after having conversed with her for an +hour in Italian, Spanish, Latin, and Greek, had gone away saying: + +"To see the court without seeing Marguerite de Valois is to see neither +France nor the court." + +Thus addresses to King Charles IX. and the Queen of Navarre were not +wanting. It is well known that the Huguenots were great hands at +addresses. Many allusions to the past, many hints as to the future, were +adroitly slipped into these harangues; but to all such allusions and +speeches the King replied, with his pale lips and artificial smiles: + +"In giving my sister Margot to Henry of Navarre, I give my sister to all +the Protestants of the kingdom." + +This phrase assured some and made others smile, for it had really a +double sense: the one paternal, with which Charles IX. would not load +his mind; the other insulting to the bride, to her husband, and also to +him who said it, for it recalled some scandalous rumors with which the +chroniclers of the court had already found means to smirch the nuptial +robe of Marguerite de Valois. + +However, M. de Guise was conversing, as we have said, with Téligny; but +he did not pay to the conversation such sustained attention but that he +turned away somewhat, from time to time, to cast a glance at the group +of ladies, in the centre of whom glittered the Queen of Navarre. When +the princess's eye thus met that of the young duke, a cloud seemed to +over-spread that lovely brow, around which stars of diamonds formed a +tremulous halo, and some agitating thought might be divined in her +restless and impatient manner. + +The Princess Claude, Marguerite's eldest sister, who had been for some +years married to the Duc de Lorraine, had observed this uneasiness, and +was going up to her to inquire the cause, when all stood aside at the +approach of the queen mother, who came forward, leaning on the arm of +the young Prince de Condé, and the princess was thus suddenly separated +from her sister. There was a general movement, by which the Duc de Guise +profited to approach Madame de Nevers, his sister-in-law, and +Marguerite. + +Madame de Lorraine, who had not lost sight of her sister, then remarked, +instead of the cloud which she had before observed on her forehead, a +burning blush come into her cheeks. The duke approached still nearer, +and when he was within two steps of Marguerite, she appeared rather to +feel than see his presence, and turned round, making a violent effort +over herself in order to give her features an appearance of calmness and +indifference. The duke, then respectfully bowing, murmured in a low +tone, + +"_Ipse attuli._" + +That meant: "I have brought it, or brought it myself." + +Marguerite returned the young duke's bow, and as she straightened +herself, replied, in the same tone, + +"_Noctu pro more._" + +That meant: "To-night, as usual." + +These soft words, absorbed by the enormous collar which the princess +wore, as in the bell of a speaking-trumpet, were heard only by the +person to whom they were addressed; but brief as had been the +conference, it doubtless composed all the young couple had to say, for +after this exchange of two words for three, they separated, Marguerite +more thoughtful and the duke with his brow less clouded than when they +met. This little scene took place without the person most interested +appearing to remark it, for the King of Navarre had eyes but for one +lady, and she had around her a suite almost as numerous as that which +followed Marguerite de Valois. This was the beautiful Madame de Sauve. + +Charlotte de Beaune Semblançay, granddaughter of the unfortunate +Semblançay, and wife of Simon de Fizes, Baron de Sauve, was one of the +ladies-in-waiting to Catharine de Médicis, and one of the most +redoubtable auxiliaries of this queen, who poured forth to her enemies +love-philtres when she dared not pour out Florentine poison. Delicately +fair, and by turns sparkling with vivacity or languishing in melancholy, +always ready for love and intrigue, the two great occupations which for +fifty years employed the court of the three succeeding kings,--a woman +in every acceptation of the word and in all the charm of the idea, from +the blue eye languishing or flashing with fire to the small rebellious +feet arched in their velvet slippers, Madame de Sauve had already for +some months taken complete possession of every faculty of the King of +Navarre, then beginning his career as a lover as well as a politician; +thus it was that Marguerite de Valois, a magnificent and royal beauty, +had not even excited admiration in her husband's heart; and what was +more strange, and astonished all the world, even from a soul so full of +darkness and mystery, Catharine de Médicis, while she prosecuted her +project of union between her daughter and the King of Navarre, had not +ceased to favor almost openly his amour with Madame de Sauve. But +despite this powerful aid, and despite the easy manners of the age, the +lovely Charlotte had hitherto resisted; and this resistance, unheard of, +incredible, unprecedented, even more than the beauty and wit of her who +resisted, had excited in the heart of the Béarnais a passion which, +unable to satisfy itself, had destroyed in the young king's heart all +timidity, pride, and even that carelessness, half philosophic, half +indolent, which formed the basis of his character. + +Madame de Sauve had been only a few minutes in the ballroom; from spite +or grief she had at first resolved on not being present at her rival's +triumph, and under the pretext of an indisposition had allowed her +husband, who had been for five years secretary of state, to go alone to +the Louvre; but when Catharine de Médicis saw the baron without his +wife, she asked the cause that kept her dear Charlotte away, and when +she found that the indisposition was but slight, she wrote a few words +to her, which the lady hastened to obey. Henry, sad as he had at first +been at her absence, had yet breathed more freely when he saw M. de +Sauve enter alone; but just as he was about to pay some court to the +charming creature whom he was condemned, if not to love, at least to +treat as his wife, he unexpectedly saw Madame de Sauve arise from the +farther end of the gallery. He remained stationary on the spot, his eyes +fastened on the Circe who enthralled him as if by magic chains, and +instead of proceeding towards his wife, by a movement of hesitation +which betrayed more astonishment than alarm he advanced to meet Madame +de Sauve. + +The courtiers, seeing the King of Navarre, whose inflammable heart they +knew, approach the beautiful Charlotte, had not the courage to prevent +their meeting, but drew aside complaisantly; so that at the very moment +when Marguerite de Valois and Monsieur de Guise exchanged the few words +in Latin which we have noted above, Henry, having approached Madame de +Sauve, began, in very intelligible French, although with somewhat of a +Gascon accent, a conversation by no means so mysterious. + +"Ah, _ma mie_!" he said, "you have, then, come at the very moment when +they assured me that you were ill, and I had lost all hope of seeing +you." + +"Would your majesty perhaps wish me to believe that it had cost you +something to lose this hope?" replied Madame de Sauve. + +"By Heaven! I believe it!" replied the Béarnais; "know you not that you +are my sun by day and my star by night? By my faith, I was in deepest +darkness till you appeared and suddenly illumined all." + +"Then, monseigneur, I serve you a very ill turn." + +"What do you mean, _ma mie_?" inquired Henry. + +"I mean that he who is master of the handsomest woman in France should +only have one desire--that the light should disappear and give way to +darkness, for happiness awaits you in the darkness." + +"You know, cruel one, that my happiness is in the hands of one woman +only, and that she laughs at poor Henry." + +"Oh!" replied the baroness, "I believed, on the contrary, that it was +this person who was the sport and jest of the King of Navarre." Henry +was alarmed at this hostile attitude, and yet he bethought him that it +betrayed jealous spite, and that jealous spite is only the mask of love. + +"Indeed, dear Charlotte, you reproach me very unjustly, and I do not +comprehend how so lovely a mouth can be so cruel. Do you suppose for a +moment that it is I who give myself in marriage? No, _ventre saint +gris_, it is not I!" + +"It is I, perhaps," said the baroness, sharply,--if ever the voice of +the woman who loves us and reproaches us for not loving her can seem +sharp. + +"With your lovely eyes have you not seen farther, baroness? No, no; +Henry of Navarre is not marrying Marguerite de Valois." + +"And who, pray, is?" + +"Why, by Heaven! it is the reformed religion marrying the pope--that's +all." + +"No, no, I cannot be deceived by your jests. Monseigneur loves Madame +Marguerite. And can I blame you? Heaven forbid! She is beautiful enough +to be adored." + +Henry reflected for a moment, and, as he reflected, a meaning smile +curled the corner of his lips. + +"Baroness," said he, "you seem to be seeking a quarrel with me, but you +have no right to do so. What have you done to prevent me from marrying +Madame Marguerite? Nothing. On the contrary, you have always driven me +to despair." + +"And well for me that I have, monseigneur," replied Madame de Sauve. + +"How so?" + +"Why, of course, because you are marrying another woman!" + +"I marry her because you love me not." + +"If I had loved you, sire, I must have died in an hour." + +"In an hour? What do you mean? And of what death would you have died?" + +"Of jealousy!--for in an hour the Queen of Navarre will send away her +women, and your majesty your gentlemen." + +"Is that really the thought that is uppermost in your mind, _ma mie_?" + +"I did not say so. I only say, that if I loved you it would be uppermost +in my mind most tormentingly." + +"Very well," said Henry, at the height of joy on hearing this +confession, the first which she had made to him, "suppose the King of +Navarre should not send away his gentlemen this evening?" + +"Sire," replied Madame de Sauve, looking at the king with astonishment +for once unfeigned, "you say things impossible and incredible." + +"What must I do to make you believe them?" + +"Give me a proof--and that proof you cannot give me." + +"Yes, baroness, yes! By Saint Henry, I will give it you!" exclaimed the +king, gazing at the young woman with eyes hot with love. + +"Oh, your majesty!" exclaimed the lovely Charlotte in an undertone and +with downcast eyes, "I do not understand--No! no, it is impossible for +you to turn your back on the happiness awaiting you." + +"There are four Henrys in this room, my adorable!" replied the king, +"Henry de France, Henry de Condé, Henry de Guise, but there is only one +Henry of Navarre." + +"Well?" + +"Well; if this Henry of Navarre is with you all night"-- + +"All night!" + +"Yes; will that be a certain proof to you that he is not with any +other?" + +"Ah! if you do that, sire," cried Madame Sauve. + +"On the honor of a gentleman I will do it!" + +Madame de Sauve raised her great eyes dewy with voluptuous promises and +looked at the king, whose heart was filled with an intoxicating joy. + +"And then," said Henry, "what will you say?" + +"I will say," replied Charlotte, "that your majesty really loves me." + +"_Ventre saint gris_! then you shall say it, baroness, for it is true." + +"But how can you manage it?" murmured Madame de Sauve. + +"Oh! by Heaven! baroness, have you not about you some waiting-woman, +some girl whom you can trust?" + +"Yes, Dariole is so devoted to me that she would let herself be cut in +pieces for me; she is a real treasure." + +"By Heaven! then say to her that I will make her fortune when I am King +of France, as the astrologers prophesy." + +Charlotte smiled, for even at this period the Gascon reputation of the +Béarnais was already established with respect to his promises. + +"Well, then, what do you want Dariole to do?" + +"Little for her, a great deal for me. Your apartment is over mine?" + +"Yes." + +"Let her wait behind the door. I will knock gently three times; she will +open the door, and you will have the proof that I have promised you." + +Madame de Sauve kept silence for several seconds, and then, as if she +had looked around her to observe if she were overheard, she fastened her +gaze for a moment on the group clustering around the queen mother; brief +as the moment was, it was sufficient for Catharine and her +lady-in-waiting to exchange a look. + +"Oh, if I were inclined," said Madame de Sauve, with a siren's accent +that would have melted the wax in Ulysses' ears, "if I were inclined to +make your majesty tell a falsehood"-- + +"_Ma mie_, try"-- + +"Ah, _ma foi_! I confess I am tempted to do so." + +"Give in! Women are never so strong as after they are defeated." + +"Sire, I hold you to your promise for Dariole when you shall be King of +France." + +Henry uttered an exclamation of joy. + +At the precise moment when this cry escaped the lips of the Béarnais, +the Queen of Navarre was replying to the Duc de Guise: + +"_Noctu pro more_--to-night as usual." + +Then Henry turned away from Madame de Sauve as happy as the Duc de Guise +had been when he left Marguerite de Valois. + +An hour after the double scene we have just related, King Charles and +the queen mother retired to their apartments. Almost immediately the +rooms began to empty; the galleries exhibited the bases of their marble +columns. The admiral and the Prince de Condé were escorted home by four +hundred Huguenot gentlemen through the middle of the crowd, which hooted +as they passed. Then Henry de Guise, with the Lorraine gentlemen and the +Catholics, left in their turn, greeted by cries of joy and plaudits of +the people. + +But Marguerite de Valois, Henry de Navarre, and Madame de Sauve lived in +the Louvre. + + + + +CHAPTER II. + +THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE'S BEDCHAMBER. + + +The Duc de Guise escorted his sister-in-law, the Duchess de Nevers, to +her hôtel in the Rue du Chaume, facing the Rue de Brac, and after he had +put her into the hands of her women, he went to his own apartment to +change his dress, put on a night cloak, and armed himself with one of +those short, keen poniards which are called "_foi de gentilhomme_," and +were worn without swords; but as he took it off the table on which it +lay, he perceived a small billet between the blade and the scabbard. + +He opened it, and read as follows: + +"_I hope M. de Guise will not return to the Louvre to-night; or if he +does, that he will at least take the precaution to arm himself with a +good coat of mail and a proved sword._" + +"Aha!" said the duke, addressing his valet, "this is a singular warning, +Maître Robin. Now be kind enough to tell me who has been here during my +absence." + +"Only one person, monseigneur." + +"Who?" + +"Monsieur du Gast." + +"Aha! In fact, methinks I recognize the handwriting. And you are sure +that Du Gast came? You saw him?" + +"More than that, monseigneur; I spoke with him." + +"Very good; then I will follow his advice--my steel jacket and my +sword." + +The valet, accustomed to these changes of costume, brought both. The +duke put on his jacket, which was made of rings of steel so fine that it +was scarcely thicker than velvet; he then drew on over his coat of mail +his small clothes and a doublet of gray and silver, his favorite colors, +put on a pair of long boots which reached to the middle of his thighs, +covered his head with a velvet toque unadorned with feathers or precious +stones, threw over his shoulders a dark-colored cloak, hung a dagger by +his side, handed his sword to a page, the only attendant he allowed to +accompany him, and took the way to the Louvre. + +As he went down the steps of the hôtel, the watchman of Saint Germain +l'Auxerrois had just announced one o'clock in the morning. + +Though the night was far gone and the streets at this time were very far +from safe, no accident befell the adventurous prince on the way, and +safe and sound he approached the colossal mass of the ancient Louvre, +all the lights of which had been extinguished one after the other, so +that it rose portentous in its silence and darkness. + +In front of the royal château was a deep fosse, looking into which were +the chambers of most of the princes who inhabited the palace. +Marguerite's apartment was on the first floor. But this first floor, +easily accessible but for the fosse, was, in consequence of the depth to +which that was cut, thirty feet from the bottom of the wall, and +consequently out of the reach of robbers or lovers; nevertheless the Duc +de Guise approached it without hesitation. + +At the same moment was heard the noise of a window which opened on the +ground floor. This window was grated, but a hand appeared, lifted out +one of the bars which had been loosened, and dropped from it a silken +lace. + +"Is that you, Gillonne?" said the duke, in a low voice. + +"Yes, monseigneur," replied a woman's voice, in a still lower tone. + +"And Marguerite?" + +"Is waiting for you." + +"'T is well." + +Hereupon the duke made a signal to his page, who, opening his cloak, +took out a small rope ladder. The prince fastened one end to the silk +lace, and Gillonne, drawing it up, tied it securely. Then the prince, +after having buckled his sword to his belt, ascended without accident. +When he had entered, the bar was replaced and the window closed, while +the page, having seen his master quietly enter the Louvre, to the +windows of which he had accompanied him twenty times in the same way, +laid himself down in his cloak on the grass of the fosse, beneath the +shadow of the wall. + +The night was extremely dark, and large drops of warm rain were falling +from the heavy clouds charged with electric fluid. + +The Duc de Guise followed his guide, who was no other than the daughter +of Jacques de Matignon, maréchal of France. She was the especial +confidante of Marguerite, who kept no secret from her; and it was said +that among the number of mysteries entrusted to her incorruptible +fidelity, there were some so terrible as to compel her to keep the +rest. + +There was no light left either in the low rooms or in the corridors, +only from time to time a livid glare illuminated the dark apartments +with a vivid flash, which as instantly disappeared. + +The duke, still guided by his conductress, who held his hand, reached a +staircase built in the thick wall, and opening by a secret and invisible +door into the antechamber of Marguerite's apartment. + +In this antechamber, which like all the other lower rooms was perfectly +dark, Gillonne stopped. + +"Have you brought what the queen requested?" she inquired, in a low +voice. + +"Yes," replied the Duc de Guise; "but I will give it only to her majesty +in person." + +"Come, then, and do not lose an instant!" said a voice from the +darkness, which made the duke start, for he recognized it as +Marguerite's. + +At the same moment a curtain of violet velvet covered with golden +fleurs-de-lis was raised, and the duke made out the form of the queen, +who in her impatience had come to meet him. + +"I am here, madame," he then said; and he passed the curtain, which fell +behind him. So Marguerite de Valois herself now became the prince's +guide, leading him into the room which, however, he knew already, while +Gillonne, standing at the door, had raised her finger to her lips and +reassured her royal mistress. + +As if she understood the duke's jealous apprehensions, Marguerite led +him to the bedchamber, and there paused. + +"Well," she said, "are you satisfied, duke?" + +"Satisfied, madame?" was the reply, "and with what?" + +"Of the proof I give you," retorted Marguerite, with a slight tone of +vexation in her voice, "that I belong to a man who, on the very night of +his marriage, makes me of such small importance that he does not even +come to thank me for the honor I have done him, not in selecting, but in +accepting him for my husband." + +"Oh! madame," said the duke, sorrowfully, "be assured he will come if +you desire it." + +"And do you say that, Henry?" cried Marguerite; "you, who better than +any know the contrary of what you say? If I had that desire, should I +have asked you to come to the Louvre?" + +"You have asked me to come to the Louvre, Marguerite, because you are +anxious to destroy every vestige of our past, and because that past +lives not only in my memory, but in this silver casket which I bring to +you." + +"Henry, shall I say one thing to you?" replied Marguerite, gazing +earnestly at the duke; "it is that you are more like a schoolboy than a +prince. I deny that I have loved you! I desire to quench a flame which +will die, perhaps, but the reflection of which will never die! For the +loves of persons of my rank illumine and frequently devour the whole +epoch contemporary with them. No, no, duke; you may keep the letters of +your Marguerite, and the casket she has given you. She asks but one of +these letters, and that only because it is as dangerous for you as for +herself." + +"It is all yours," said the duke. "Take the one that you wish to +destroy." + +Marguerite searched anxiously in the open casket, and with a tremulous +hand took, one after the other, a dozen letters, only the addresses of +which she examined, as if by merely glancing at these she could recall +to her memory what the letters themselves contained; but after a close +scrutiny she looked at the duke, pale and agitated. + +"Sir," she said, "what I seek is not here. Can you have lost it, by any +accident? for if it should fall into the hands of"-- + +"What letter do you seek, madame?" + +"That in which I told you to marry without delay." + +"As an excuse for your infidelity?" + +Marguerite shrugged her shoulders. + +"No; but to save your life. The one in which I told you that the king, +seeing our love and my exertions to break off your proposed marriage +with the Infanta of Portugal, had sent for his brother, the Bastard of +Angoulême, and said to him, pointing to two swords, '_With this slay +Henry de Guise this night, or with the other I will slay thee in the +morning._' Where is that letter?" + +"Here," said the duke, drawing it from his breast. + +Marguerite almost snatched it from his hands, opened it anxiously, +assured herself that it was really the one she desired, uttered an +exclamation of joy, and applying the lighted candle to it, the flames +instantly consumed the paper; then, as if Marguerite feared that her +imprudent words might be read in the very ashes, she trampled them under +foot. + +During all this the Duc de Guise had watched his mistress attentively. + +"Well, Marguerite," he said, when she had finished, "are you satisfied +now?" + +"Yes, for now that you have wedded the Princesse de Porcian, my brother +will forgive me your love; while he would never have pardoned me for +revealing a secret such as that which in my weakness for you I had not +the strength to conceal from you." + +"True," replied De Guise, "then you loved me." + +"And I love you still, Henry, as much--more than ever!" + +"You"-- + +"I do; for never more than at this moment did I need a sincere and +devoted friend. Queen, I have no throne; wife, I have no husband!" + +The young prince shook his head sorrowfully. + +"I tell you, I repeat to you, Henri, that my husband not only does not +love me, but hates--despises me; indeed, it seems to me that your +presence in the chamber in which he ought to be is proof of this hatred, +this contempt." + +"It is not yet late, Madame, and the King of Navarre requires time to +dismiss his gentlemen; if he has not already come, he will come soon." + +"And I tell you," cried Marguerite, with increasing vexation,--"I tell +you that he will not come!" + +"Madame!" exclaimed Gillonne, suddenly entering, "the King of Navarre is +just leaving his apartments!" + +"Oh, I knew he would come!" exclaimed the Duc de Guise. + +"Henri," said Marguerite, in a quick tone, and seizing the duke's +hand,--"Henri, you shall see if I am a woman of my word, and if I may be +relied on. Henri, enter that closet." + +"Madame, allow me to go while there is yet time, for reflect that the +first mark of love you bestow on him, I shall quit the cabinet, and then +woe to him!" + +"Are you mad? Go in--go in, I say, and I will be responsible for all;" +and she pushed the duke into the closet. + +It was time. The door was scarcely closed behind the prince when the +King of Navarre, escorted by two pages, who carried eight torches of +yellow wax in two candelabra, appeared, smiling, on the threshold of the +chamber. Marguerite concealed her trouble, and made a low bow. + +"You are not yet in bed, Madame," observed the Béarnais, with his frank +and joyous look. "Were you by chance waiting for me?" + +"No, Monsieur," replied Marguerite; "for yesterday you repeated to me +that our marriage was a political alliance, and that you would never +thwart my wishes." + +"Assuredly; but that is no reason why we should not confer a little +together. Gillonne, close the door, and leave us." + +Marguerite, who was sitting, then rose and extended her hand, as if to +desire the pages to remain. + +"Must I call your women?" inquired the king. "I will do so if such be +your desire, although I confess that for what I have to say to you I +should prefer our being alone;" and the King of Navarre advanced towards +the closet. + +"No!" exclaimed Marguerite, hastily going before him,--"no! there is no +occasion for that; I am ready to hear you." + +The Béarnais had learned what he desired to know; he threw a rapid and +penetrating glance towards the cabinet, as if in spite of the thick +curtain which hung before it, he would dive into its obscurity, and +then, turning his looks to his lovely wife, pale with terror, he said +with the utmost composure, "In that case, Madame, let us confer for a +few moments." + +"As your Majesty pleases," said the young wife, falling into, rather +than sitting upon the seat which her husband pointed out to her. + +The Béarnais placed himself beside her. "Madame," he continued, +"whatever many persons may have said, I think our marriage is a good +marriage. I stand well with you; you stand well with me." + +"But--" said Marguerite, alarmed. + +"Consequently, we ought," observed the King of Navarre, without seeming +to notice Marguerite's hesitation, "to act towards each other like good +allies, since we have to-day sworn alliance in the presence of God. +Don't you think so?" + +"Unquestionably, Monsieur." + +"I know, Madame, how great your penetration is; I know how the ground at +court is intersected with dangerous abysses. Now, I am young, and +although I never injured any one, I have a great many enemies. In which +camp, Madame, ought I to range her who bears my name, and who has vowed +her affection to me at the foot of the altar?" + +"Monsieur, could you think--" + +"I think nothing, Madame; I hope, and I am anxious to know that my hope +is well founded. It is quite certain that our marriage is merely a +pretext or a snare." + +Marguerite started, for perhaps the same thought had occurred to her own +mind. + +"Now, then, which of the two?" continued Henri de Navarre. "The king +hates me; the Duc d'Anjou hates me; the Duc d'Alençon hates me; +Catherine de Médicis hated my mother too much not to hate me." + +"Oh, Monsieur, what are you saying?" + +"The truth, madame," replied the king; "and in order that it may not be +supposed that I am deceived as to Monsieur de Mouy's assassination and +the poisoning of my mother, I wish that some one were here who could +hear me." + +"Oh, sire," replied Marguerite, with an air as calm and smiling as she +could assume, "you know very well that there is no person here but you +and myself." + +"It is for that very reason that I thus give vent to my thoughts; this +it is that emboldens me to declare that I am not deceived by the +caresses showered on me by the House of France or the House of +Lorraine." + +"Sire, sire!" exclaimed Marguerite. + +"Well, what is it, _ma mie_?" inquired Henry, smiling in his turn. + +"Why, sire, such remarks are very dangerous." + +"Not when we are alone," observed the king. "I was saying"-- + +Marguerite was evidently distressed; she desired to stop every word the +king uttered, but he continued, with his apparent good nature: + +"I was telling you that I was threatened on all sides: threatened by the +King, threatened by the Duc d'Alençon, threatened by the Duc d'Anjou, +threatened by the queen mother, threatened by the Duc de Guise, by the +Duc de Mayenne, by the Cardinal de Lorraine--threatened, in fact, by +every one. One feels that instinctively, as you know, madame. Well, +against all these threats, which must soon become attacks, I can defend +myself by your aid, for you are beloved by all the persons who detest +me." + +"I?" said Marguerite. + +"Yes, you," replied Henry, with the utmost ease of manner; "yes, you are +beloved by King Charles, you are beloved" (he laid strong emphasis on +the word) "by the Duc d'Alençon, you are beloved by Queen Catharine, and +you are beloved by the Duc de Guise." + +"Sire!" murmured Marguerite. + +"Yes; and what is there astonishing in the fact that every one loves +you? All I have mentioned are your brothers or relatives. To love one's +brothers and relatives is to live according to God's heart." + +"But what, then," asked Marguerite, greatly overcome, "what do you +mean?" + +"What I have just said, that if you will be--I do not mean my love--but +my ally, I can brave everything; while, on the other hand, if you become +my enemy, I am lost." + +"Oh, your enemy!--never, sir!" exclaimed Marguerite. + +"And my love--never either?" + +"Perhaps"-- + +"And my ally?" + +"Most decidedly." + +And Marguerite turned round and offered her hand to the king. + +Henry took it, kissed it gallantly, and retaining it in his own, more +from a desire of investigation than from any sentiment of tenderness, +said: + +"Very well, I believe you, madame, and accept the alliance. They married +us without our knowing each other--without our loving each other; they +married us without consulting us--us whom they united. We therefore owe +nothing to each other as man and wife; you see that I even go beyond +your wishes and confirm this evening what I said to you yesterday; but +we ally ourselves freely and without any compulsion. We ally ourselves, +as two loyal hearts who owe each other mutual protection should ally +themselves; 't is as such you understand it?" + +"Yes, sir," said Marguerite, endeavoring to withdraw her hand. + +"Well, then," continued the Béarnais, with his eyes fastened on the door +of the cabinet, "as the first proof of a frank alliance is the most +perfect confidence, I will now relate to you, madame, in all its +details, the plan I have formed in order that we may victoriously meet +and overcome all these enmities." + +"Sire"--said Marguerite, in spite of herself turning her eyes toward the +closet, whilst the Béarnais, seeing his trick succeed, laughed in his +sleeve. + +"This is what I mean to do," he continued, without appearing to remark +his young wife's nervousness, "I intend"-- + +"Sire," said Marguerite, rising hastily, and seizing the king's arm, +"allow me a little breath; my emotion--the heat--overpowers me." + +And, in truth, Marguerite was as pale and trembling as if she was about +to fall on the carpet. + +Henry went straight to a window some distance off, and opened it. This +window looked out on the river. + +Marguerite followed him. + +"Silence, sire,--silence, for your own sake!" she murmured. + +"What, madame," said the Béarnais, with his peculiar smile, "did you not +tell me we were alone?" + +"Yes, sire; but did you not hear me say that by the aid of a tube +introduced into the ceiling or the wall everything could be heard?" + +"Well, madame, well," said the Béarnais, earnestly and in a low voice, +"it is true you do not love me, but you are, at least, honorable." + +"What do you mean, sire?" + +"I mean that if you were capable of betraying me, you would have allowed +me to go on, as I was betraying myself. You stopped me--I now know that +some one is concealed here--that you are an unfaithful wife, but a +faithful ally; and just now, I confess, I have more need of fidelity in +politics than in love." + +"Sire!" replied Marguerite, confused. + +"Good, good; we will talk of this hereafter," said Henry, "when we know +each other better." + +Then, raising his voice--"Well," he continued, "do you breathe more +freely now, madame?" + +"Yes, sire,--yes!" + +"Well, then," said the Béarnais, "I will no longer intrude on you. I +owed you my respects, and some advances toward better acquaintance; +deign, then, to accept them, as they are offered, with all my heart. +Good-night, and happy slumbers!" + +Marguerite raised her eyes, shining with gratitude, and offered her +husband her hand. + +"It is agreed," she said. + +"Political alliance, frank and loyal?" asked Henry. + +"Frank and loyal," was the reply. + +And the Béarnais went toward the door, followed by Marguerite's look as +if she were fascinated. Then, when the curtain had fallen between them +and the bedchamber: + +"Thanks, Marguerite," he said, in a quick low tone, "thanks! You are a +true daughter of France. I leave you quite tranquil: lacking your love, +your friendship will not fail me. I rely on you, as you, on your side, +may rely on me. Adieu, madame." + +And Henry kissed his wife's hand, and pressed it gently. Then with a +quick step he returned to his own apartment, saying to himself, in a low +voice, in the corridor: + +"Who the devil is with her? Is it the King, or the Duc d'Anjou, or the +Duc d'Alençon, or the Duc de Guise? is it a brother or a lover? is it +both? I' faith, I am almost sorry now I asked the baroness for this +rendezvous; but, as my word is pledged, and Dariole is waiting for +me--no matter. Yet, _ventre saint gris_! this Margot, as my +brother-in-law, King Charles, calls her, is an adorable creature." + +And with a step which betrayed a slight hesitation, Henry of Navarre +ascended the staircase which led to Madame de Sauve's apartments. + +Marguerite had followed him with her eyes until he disappeared. Then +she returned to her chamber, and found the duke at the door of the +cabinet. The sight of him almost touched her with remorse. + +The duke was grave, and his knitted brow bespoke bitter reflection. + +"Marguerite is neutral to-day," he said; "in a week Marguerite will be +hostile." + +"Ah! you have been listening?" said Marguerite. + +"What else could I do in the cabinet?" + +"And did you find that I behaved otherwise than the Queen of Navarre +should behave?" + +"No; but differently from the way in which the mistress of the Duc de +Guise should behave." + +"Sir," replied the queen, "I may not love my husband, but no one has the +right to require me to betray him. Tell me honestly: would you reveal +the secrets of the Princesse de Porcian, your wife?" + +"Come, come, madame," answered the duke, shaking his head, "this is very +well; I see that you do not love me as in those days when you disclosed +to me the plot of the King against me and my party." + +"The King was strong and you were weak; Henry is weak and you are +strong. You see I always play a consistent part." + +"Only you pass from one camp to another." + +"That was a right I acquired, sir, in saving your life." + +"Good, madame; and as when lovers separate, they return all the gifts +that have passed between them, I will save your life, in my turn, if +ever the need arises, and we shall be quits." + +And the duke bowed and left the room, nor did Marguerite attempt to +retain him. + +In the antechamber he found Gillonne, who guided him to the window on +the ground floor, and in the fosse he found his page, with whom he +returned to the Hôtel de Guise. + +Marguerite, in a dreamy mood, went to the opened window. + +"What a marriage night!" she murmured to herself; "the husband flees +from me--the lover forsakes me!" + +At that moment, coming from the Tour de Bois, and going up toward the +Moulin de la Monnaie, on the other side of the fosse passed a student, +his hand on his hip, and singing: + + "SONG. + + "Tell me why, O maiden fair, + When I burn to bite thy hair, + And to kiss thy rosy lips, + And to touch thy lovely breast, + Like a nun thou feign'st thee blest + In the cloister's sad eclipse? + + "Who will win the precious prize + Of thy brow, thy mouth, thine eyes-- + Of thy bosom sweet--what lover? + Wilt thou all thy charms devote + To grim Pluton when the boat + Charon rows shall take thee over? + + "After thou hast sailed across, + Loveliest, then wilt find but loss-- + All thy beauty will decay. + When I die and meet thee there + In the shades I'll never swear + Thou wert once my mistress gay! + + "Therefore, darling, while we live, + Change thy mind and tokens give-- + Kisses from thy honey mouth! + Else when thou art like to die + Thou 'lt repent thy cruelty, + Filling all my life with drouth!" + +Marguerite listened with a melancholy smile; then when the student's +voice was lost in the distance, she shut the window, and called Gillonne +to help her to prepare for bed. + + + + +CHAPTER III. + +THE POET-KING. + + +The next day and those that followed were devoted to festivals, balls, +and tournaments. + +The same amalgamation continued to take place between the two parties. +The caresses and compliments lavished were enough to turn the heads of +the most bigoted Huguenots. Père Cotton was to be seen dining and +carousing with the Baron de Courtaumer; the Duc de Guise went boating on +the Seine with the Prince de Condé. King Charles seemed to have laid +aside his usual melancholy, and could not get enough of the society of +his new brother-in-law, Henry. Moreover, the queen mother was so gay, +and so occupied with embroidery, ornaments, and plumes, that she could +not sleep. + +The Huguenots, to some degree contaminated by this new Capua, began to +assume silken pourpoints, wear devices, and parade before certain +balconies, as if they were Catholics. + +On every side there was such a reaction in favor of the Protestants that +it seemed as if the whole court was about to become Protestant; even the +admiral, in spite of his experience, was deceived, and was so carried +away that one evening he forgot for two whole hours to chew on his +toothpick, which he always used from two o'clock, at which time he +finished his dinner, until eight o'clock at night, when he sat down to +supper. + +The evening on which the admiral thus unaccountably deviated from his +usual habit, King Charles IX. had invited Henry of Navarre and the Duc +de Guise to sup with him. After the repast he took them into his +chamber, and was busily explaining to them the ingenious mechanism of a +wolf-trap he had invented, when, interrupting himself,-- + +"Isn't the admiral coming to-night?" he asked. "Who has seen him to-day +and can tell me anything about him?" + +"I have," said the King of Navarre; "and if your Majesty is anxious +about his health, I can reassure you, for I saw him this morning at six, +and this evening at seven o'clock." + +"Aha!" replied the King, whose eyes were instantly fixed with a +searching expression on his brother-in-law; "for a new-married man, +Harry, you are very early." + +"Yes, sire," answered the King of Navarre, "I wished to inquire of the +admiral, who knows everything, whether some gentlemen I am expecting are +on their way hither." + +"More gentlemen! why, you had eight hundred on the day of your wedding, +and fresh ones join you every day. You are surely not going to invade +us?" said Charles IX., smiling. + +The Duc de Guise frowned. + +"Sire," returned the Béarnais, "a war with Flanders is spoken of, and I +am collecting round me all those gentlemen of my country and its +neighborhood whom I think can be useful to your Majesty." + +The duke, calling to mind the pretended project Henry had mentioned to +Marguerite the day of their marriage, listened still more attentively. + +"Well, well," replied the King, with his sinister smile, "the more the +better; let them all come, Henry. But who are these gentlemen?--brave +ones, I trust." + +"I know not, sire, if my gentlemen will ever equal those of your +Majesty, or the Duc d'Anjou's, or the Duc de Guise's, but I know that +they will do their best." + +"Do you expect many?" + +"Ten or a dozen more." + +"What are their names?" + +"Sire, their names escape me, and with the exception of one, whom +Téligny recommended to me as a most accomplished gentleman, and whose +name is De la Mole, I cannot tell." + +"De la Mole!" exclaimed the King, who was deeply skilled in the science +of genealogy; "is he not a Lerac de la Mole, a Provençal?" + +"Exactly so, sire; you see I recruit even in Provence." + +"And I," added the Duc de Guise, with a sarcastic smile, "go even +further than his majesty the King of Navarre, for I seek even in +Piedmont all the trusty Catholics I can find." + +"Catholic or Huguenot," interrupted the King, "it little matters to me, +so they are brave." + +The King's face while he uttered these words, which thus united +Catholics and Huguenots in his thoughts, bore such an expression of +indifference that the duke himself was surprised. + +"Your Majesty is occupied with the Flemings," said the admiral, to whom +Charles had some days previously accorded the favor of entering without +being announced, and who had overheard the King's last words. + +"Ah! here is my father the admiral!" cried Charles, opening his arms. +"We were speaking of war, of gentlemen, of brave men--and _he_ comes. It +is like the lodestone which attracts the iron. My brother-in-law of +Navarre and my cousin of Guise are expecting reinforcements for your +army. That was what we were talking about." + +"And these reinforcements are on their way," said the admiral. + +"Have you had news of them?" asked the Béarnais. + +"Yes, my son, and particularly of M. de la Mole; he was at Orléans +yesterday, and will be in Paris to-morrow or the day after." + +"The devil! You must be a sorcerer, admiral," said the Duc de Guise, "to +know what is taking place at thirty or forty leagues' distance. I should +like to know for a certainty what happened or is happening before +Orléans." + +Coligny remained unmoved at this savage onslaught, which evidently +alluded to the death of François de Guise, the duke's father, killed +before Orléans by Poltrot de Méré, and not without a suspicion that the +admiral had advised the crime. + +"Sir," replied he, coldly and with dignity, "I am a sorcerer whenever I +wish to know anything positively that concerns my own affairs or the +King's. My courier arrived an hour ago from Orléans, having travelled, +thanks to the post, thirty-two leagues in a day. As M. de la Mole has +only his own horse, he rides but ten leagues a day, and will not arrive +in Paris before the 24th. Here is all my magic." + +"Bravo, my father, a clever answer!" cried Charles IX.; "teach these +young men that wisdom as well as age has whitened your hair and beard; +so now we will send them to talk of their tournaments and their +love-affairs and you and I will stay and talk of our wars. Good +councillors make good kings, my father. Leave us, gentlemen. I wish to +talk with the admiral." + +The two young men took their departure; the King of Navarre first, then +the Duc de Guise; but outside the door they separated, after a formal +salute. + +Coligny followed them with his eyes, not without anxiety, for he never +saw those two personified hatreds meet without a dread that some new +lightning flash would leap forth. Charles IX. saw what was passing in +his mind, and, going to him, laid his hand on his arm: + +"Have no fear, my father; I am here to preserve peace and obedience. I +am really a king, now that my mother is no longer queen, and she is no +longer queen now that Coligny is my father." + +"Oh, sire!" said the admiral, "Queen Catharine"-- + +"Is a marplot. Peace is impossible with her. These Italian Catholics are +furious, and will hear of nothing but extermination; now, for my part, I +not only wish to pacify, but I wish to put power into the hands of those +that profess the reformed religion. The others are too dissolute, and +scandalize me by their love affairs and their quarrels. Shall I speak +frankly to you?" continued Charles, redoubling in energy. "I mistrust +every one about me except my new friends. I suspect Tavannes's ambition. +Vieilleville cares only for good wine, and would betray his king for a +cask of Malvoisie; Montmorency thinks only of the chase, and spends all +his time among his dogs and falcons; the Comte de Retz is a Spaniard; +the De Guises are Lorraines. I think there are no true Frenchmen in +France, except myself, my brother-in-law of Navarre, and you; but I am +chained to the throne, and cannot command armies; it is as much as I can +do to hunt at my ease at Saint Germain or Rambouillet. My brother-in-law +of Navarre is too young and too inexperienced; besides, he seems to me +exactly like his father Antoine, ruined by women. There is but you, my +father, who can be called, at the same time, as brave as Cæsar and as +wise as Plato; so that I scarcely know what to do--keep you near me, as +my adviser, or send you to the army, as its general. If you act as my +counsellor, who will command? If you command, who will be my +counsellor?" + +"Sire," said Coligny, "we must conquer first, and then take counsel +after the victory." + +"That is your advice--so be it; Monday you shall leave for Flanders, and +I for Amboise." + +"Your Majesty leaves Paris, then?" + +"Yes; I am weary of this confusion, and of these fêtes. I am not a man +of action; I am a dreamer. I was not born to be a king; I was born to be +a poet. You shall form a council which shall govern while you are at +war, and provided my mother is not in it, all will go well. I have +already sent word to Ronsard to join me; and yonder, we two together, +far from all tumult, far from the world, far from evil men, under our +mighty trees on the banks of the river, with the murmur of brooks in +our ears, will talk about divine things, the only compensation which +there is in the world for the affairs of men. Wait! Hear these lines in +which I invite him to join me; I wrote them this morning." + +Coligny smiled. Charles IX. rubbed his hand over his brow, yellow and +shining like ivory, and repeated in a kind of sing-song the following +couplets: + + "Ronsard, I am full sure that if you see me not, + Your great King's voice by you will shortly be forgot. + But as a slight reminder--know I still persevere + In making skill of poesy my sole endeavor. + And that is why I send to you this warm appeal, + To fill your mind with new, enthusiastic zeal. + + "No longer then amuse yourself with home distractions; + Past is the time for gardening and its attractions. + Come, follow with your King, who loves you most of all, + For that the sweet strong verses from your lips do fall. + And if Ardoise shall not behold you shortly present, + A mighty quarrel will break out and prove unpleasant!" + +"Bravo! sire, bravo!" cried Coligny, "I am better versed in matters of +war than in matters of poetry, but it seems to me that those lines are +equal to the best, even written by Ronsard, or Dorat, or even Michel de +l'Hôpital, Chancellor of France." + +"Ah! my father!" exclaimed Charles IX.; "would what you said were true! +For the title of poet, you see, is what I am ambitious, above all +things, to gain; and as I said a few days ago to my master in poetry: + + "'The art of making verse, if one were criticised, + Should ever be above the art of reigning prized. + The crowns that you and I upon our brows are wearing, + I as the King receive, as poet you are sharing. + Your lofty soul, enkindled by celestial beams, + Flames of itself, while mine with borrowed glory gleams. + If 'mid the gods I ask which has the better showing, + Ronsard is their delight: I, but their image glowing. + Your lyre, which ravishes with sounds so sweet and bold, + Subdues men's minds, while I their bodies only hold! + It makes you master, lifts you into lofty regions, + Where even the haughty tyrant ne'er dared claim allegiance.'" + +"Sire," said Coligny, "I was well aware that your Majesty conversed with +the Muses, but I did not know that you were their chief counsellor." + +"After you, my father, after you. And in order that I may not be +disturbed in my relations with them, I wish to put you at the head of +everything. So listen: I must now go and reply to a new madrigal my dear +and illustrious poet has sent me. I cannot, therefore, give you the +documents necessary to make you acquainted with the question now +debating between Philip II. and myself. There is, besides, a plan of the +campaign drawn up by my ministers. I will find it all for you, and give +it to you to-morrow." + +"At what time, sire?" + +"At ten o'clock; and if by chance I am busy making verses, or in my +cabinet writing, well--you will come in just the same, and take all the +papers which you will find on the table in this red portfolio. The color +is remarkable, and you cannot mistake it. I am now going to write to +Ronsard." + +"Adieu, sire!" + +"Adieu, my father!" + +"Your hand?" + +"What, my hand? In my arms, in my heart, there is your place! Come, my +old soldier, come!" + +And Charles IX., drawing Coligny toward him as he bowed, pressed his +lips to his white hair. + +The admiral left the room, wiping away a tear. + +Charles IX. followed him with his eyes as long as he could see, and +listened as long as he could catch a sound; then, when he could no +longer hear or see anything, he bent his head over toward his shoulder, +as his custom was, and slowly entered his armory. + +This armory was the king's favorite apartment; there he took his +fencing-lessons with Pompée, and his poetry lessons with Ronsard. He had +gathered there a great collection of the most costly weapons he had been +able to find. The walls were hung with axes, shields, spears, halberds, +pistols, and muskets, and that day a famous armorer had brought him a +magnificent arquebuse, on the barrel of which were inlaid in silver +these four lines, composed by the royal poet himself: + + "_Pour maintenir la foy,_ + _Je suis belle et fidèle._ + _Aux ennemis du Roi,_ + _Je suis belle et cruelle._"[1] + + +Charles, as we have said, entered this room, and after having shut the +door by which he had entered, he raised the tapestry that masked a +passage leading into a little chamber, where a woman kneeling before a +_priedieu_ was saying her prayers. + +As this movement was executed noiselessly, and the footsteps of the +king, deadened by the thick carpet, made no more noise than a phantom's, +the kneeling woman heard no sound, and continued to pray. Charles stood +for a moment pensively looking at her. + +She was a woman of thirty-four or thirty-five years of age, whose +vigorous beauty was set off by the costume of the peasants of Caux. She +wore the high cap so much the fashion at the court of France during the +time of Isabel of Bavaria, and her red bodice was embroidered with gold, +like those of the _contadine_ of Nettuno and Sora. The apartment which +she had for nearly twenty years occupied was close to the King's +bed-chamber and presented a singular mixture of elegance and rusticity. +In equal measure the palace had encroached upon the cottage, and the +cottage upon the palace, so that the room combined the simplicity of the +peasant woman and the luxury of the court lady. + +The _priedieu_ on which she knelt was of oak, marvellously carved, +covered with velvet and with gold fringes, while the Bible from which +she was reading (for she was of the reformed religion) was very old and +torn, like those found in the poorest cottages; now everything in the +room was typified by the _priedieu_ and the Bible. + +"Eh, Madelon!" said the King. + +The kneeling woman lifted her head smilingly at the well-known voice, +and rising from her knees,-- + +"Ah! it is you, my son," said she. + +"Yes, nurse; come here." + +Charles IX. let fall the curtain, and sat down on the arm of an +easy-chair. The nurse appeared. + +"What do you want with me, Charlot?" + +"Come near, and answer in a low tone." + +The nurse approached him with a familiarity such as might come from that +maternal affection felt by a woman for her nursling, but attributed by +the pamphlets of the time to a source infinitely less pure. + +"Here I am," said she; "speak!" + +"Is the man I sent for come?" + +"He has been here half an hour." + +Charles rose, approached the window, looked to assure himself there were +no eavesdroppers, went to the door and looked out there also, shook the +dust from his trophies of arms, patted a large greyhound which followed +him wherever he went, stopping when he stopped and moving when he +moved,--then returning to his nurse: + +"Very well, nurse, let him come in," said he. + +The worthy woman disappeared by the same passage by which she had +entered, while the king went and leaned against a table on which were +scattered arms of every kind. + +Scarcely had he done so when the portière was again lifted, and the +person whom he expected entered. + +He was a man of about forty, his eyes gray and false, his nose curved +like the beak of a screech-owl, his cheek-bones prominent. His face +tried to look respectful, but all that he could do was to wear a +hypocritical smile on his lips blanched with fear. + +Charles gently put his hand behind him, and grasped the butt of a +pistol of a new construction, that was discharged, not by a match, as +formerly, but by a flint brought in contact with a wheel of steel. He +fixed his dull eyes steadily on the newcomer; meantime he whistled, with +perfect precision and with remarkable sweetness, one of his favorite +hunting-airs. + +After a pause of some minutes, during which the expression of the +stranger's face grew more and more discomposed, + +"You are the person," said the King, "called François de Louvièrs +Maurevel?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"Captain of petardeers?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"I wanted to see you." + +Maurevel made a low bow. + +"You know," continued Charles, laying a stress on each word, "that I +love all my subjects equally?" + +"I know," stammered Maurevel, "that your Majesty is the father of your +people." + +"And that the Huguenots and Catholics are equally my children?" + +Maurevel remained silent, but his agitation was manifest to the King's +piercing eyes, although the person whom he was addressing was almost +concealed in the darkness. + +"Does this displease you," said the King, "you who have waged such a +bitter war on the Huguenots?" + +Maurevel fell on his knees. + +"Sire," stammered he, "believe that"-- + +"I believe," continued Charles, looking more and more keenly at +Maurevel, while his eyes, which at first had seemed like glass, now +became almost fiery, "I believe that you had a great desire at +Moncontour to kill the admiral, who has just left me; I believe you +missed your aim, and that then you entered the army of my brother, the +Duc d'Anjou; I believe that then you went for a second time over to the +prince's and there took service in the company of M. de Mouy de Saint +Phale"-- + +"Oh, sire!" + +"A brave gentleman from Picardy"-- + +"Sire, sire!" cried Maurevel, "do not overwhelm me." + +"He was a brave officer," continued Charles, whose features assumed an +aspect of almost ferocious cruelty, "who received you as if you had been +his son; fed you, lodged you, and clothed you." + +Maurevel uttered a despairing sigh. + +"You called him your father, I believe," continued the King, pitilessly, +"and a tender friendship existed between you and the young De Mouy, his +son." + +Maurevel, still on his knees, bowed low, more and more crushed under the +indignation of the King, who stood immovable, like a statue whose lips +only are endowed with vitality. + +"By the way," continued the King, "M. de Guise was to give you ten +thousand crowns if you killed the admiral--was he not?" + +The assassin in consternation struck his forehead against the floor. + +"As regards your worthy father, the Sieur de Mouy, you were one day +acting as his escort in a reconnaissance toward Chevreux. He dropped his +whip and dismounted to pick it up. You were alone with him; you took a +pistol from your holster, and while he was bending over, you shot him in +the back; then seeing he was dead--for you killed him on the spot--you +escaped on the horse he had given you. This is your history, I believe?" + +And as Maurevel remained mute under this accusation, every circumstance +of which was true, Charles IX. began to whistle again, with the same +precision and melody, the same hunting-air. + +"Now, then, murderer!" said he after a little, "do you know I have a +great mind to have you hanged?" + +"Oh, your Majesty!" cried Maurevel. + +"Young De Mouy entreated me to do so only yesterday, and I scarcely knew +what answer to make him, for his demand was perfectly just." + +Maurevel clasped his hands. + +"All the more just, because I am, as you say, the father of my people; +and because, as I answered you, now that I am reconciled to the +Huguenots, they are as much my children as the Catholics." + +"Sire," said Maurevel, in despair, "my life is in your hands; do with it +what you will." + +"You are quite right, and I would not give a groat for it." + +"But, sire," asked the assassin, "is there no means of redeeming my +crime?" + +"None that I know of; only if I were in your place--but thank God I am +not"-- + +"Well, sire, if you were in my place?" murmured Maurevel, his eyes fixed +on the King's lips. + +"I think I could extricate myself," said the King. + +Maurevel raised himself on one knee and one hand, fixing his eyes upon +Charles to make certain that he was not jesting. + +"I am very fond of young De Mouy," said the King; "but I am equally fond +of my cousin De Guise; and if my cousin asked me to spare a man that the +other wanted me to hang, I confess I should be embarrassed; but for +policy as well as religion's sake I should comply with my cousin De +Guise's request, for De Mouy, brave captain though he be, is but a petty +personage compared with a prince of Lorraine." + +During these words, Maurevel slowly rose, like a man whose life is +saved. + +"In your critical situation it would be a very important thing to gain +my cousin De Guise's favor. So I am going to tell you what he said to me +last night." + +Maurevel drew nearer. + +"'Imagine, sire,' said he to me, 'that every morning, at ten o'clock, my +deadliest enemy passes down the Rue Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, on his +return from the Louvre. I see him from a barred window in the room of my +old preceptor, the Canon Pierre Piles, and I pray the devil to open the +earth and swallow him in its abysses.' Now, Maître Maurevel," continued +the King, "perhaps if you were the devil, or if for an instant you +should take his place, that would perhaps please my cousin De Guise." + +Maurevel's infernal smile came back to his lips, though they were still +bloodless with terror, and he stammered out these words: + +"But, sire, I cannot make the earth open." + +"Yet you made it open wide enough for the worthy De Mouy, if I remember +correctly. After this you will tell me how with a pistol--have you not +that pistol still?" + +"Forgive me, sire, I am a still better marksman with an arquebuse than a +pistol," replied Maurevel, now quite reassured. + +"Pistol or arquebuse makes no difference," said the King; "I am sure my +cousin De Guise will not cavil over the choice of methods." + +"But," said Maurevel, "I must have a weapon I can rely on, as, perhaps, +I shall have to fire from a long distance." + +"I have ten arquebuses in this room," replied Charles IX., "with which I +can hit a crown-piece at a hundred and fifty paces--will you try one?" + +"Most willingly, sire!" cried Maurevel, with the greatest joy, going in +the direction of one which was standing in a corner of the room. It was +the one which that day had been brought to the King. + +"No, not that one," said the King, "not that one; I reserve that for +myself. Some day I am going to have a grand hunt and then I hope to use +it. Take any other you like." + +Maurevel took one down from a trophy. + +"And who is this enemy, sire?" asked the assassin. + +"How should I know," replied Charles, withering the wretch with his +contemptuous look. + +"I must ask M. de Guise, then," faltered Maurevel. + +The King shrugged his shoulders. + +"Do not ask," said he; "for M. de Guise will not answer. Do people +generally answer such questions? Those that do not wish to be hanged +must guess them." + +"But how shall I know him?" + +"I tell you he passes the Canon's house every morning at ten o'clock." + +"But many pass that house. Would your Majesty deign to give me any +certain sign?" + +"Oh, that is easy enough; to-morrow, for example, he will carry a red +morocco portfolio under his arm." + +"That is sufficient, sire." + +"You still have the fast horse M. de Mouy gave you?" + +"Sire, I have one of the fleetest of horses." + +"Oh, I am not in the least anxious about you; only it is as well to let +you know the monastery has a back door." + +"Thanks, sire; pray Heaven for me!" + +"Oh, a thousand devils! pray to Satan rather; for only by his aid can +you escape a halter." + +"Adieu, sire." + +"Adieu! By the way, M. de Maurevel, remember that if you are heard of +before ten to-morrow, or are _not_ heard of afterward, there is a +dungeon at the Louvre." + +And Charles IX. calmly began to whistle, with more than usual precision, +his favorite air. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. + +THE EVENING OF THE 24TH OF AUGUST, 1572. + + +Our readers have not forgotten that in the previous chapter we mentioned +a gentleman named De la Mole whom Henry of Navarre was anxiously +expecting. + +This young gentleman, as the admiral had announced, entered Paris by the +gate of Saint Marcel the evening of the 24th of August, 1572; and +bestowing a contemptuous glance on the numerous hostelries that +displayed their picturesque signs on either side of him, he spurred his +steaming horse on into the heart of the city, and after having crossed +the Place Maubert, Le Petit Pont, the Pont Notre-Dame, and skirted the +quays, he stopped at the end of the Rue de Bresec, which we have since +corrupted into the Rue de l'Arbre Sec, and for the greater convenience +of our readers we will call by its modern name. + +The name pleased him, no doubt, for he entered the street, and finding +on his left a large sheet-iron plate swinging, creaking on its hinges, +with an accompaniment of little bells, he stopped and read these words, +"_La Belle Étoile_," written on a scroll beneath the sign, which was a +most attractive one for a famished traveller, as it represented a fowl +roasting in the midst of a black sky, while a man in a red cloak held +out his hands and his purse toward this new-fangled constellation. + +"Here," said the gentleman to himself, "is an inn that promises well, +and the landlord must be a most ingenious fellow. I have always heard +that the Rue de l'Arbre Sec was near the Louvre; and, provided that the +interior answers to the exterior, I shall be admirably lodged." + +While the newcomer was thus indulging in this monologue another horseman +who had entered the street at the other end, that is to say, by the Rue +Saint-Honoré, stopped also to admire the sign of _La Belle Étoile_. + +The gentleman whom we already know, at least by name, rode a white steed +of Spanish lineage and wore a black doublet ornamented with jet; his +cloak was of dark violet velvet; his boots were of black leather, and he +had a sword and poniard with hilts of chased steel. + +Now if we pass from his costume to his features we shall conclude that +he was twenty-four or twenty-five years of age. His complexion was dark; +his eyes were blue; he had a delicate mustache and brilliant teeth which +seemed to light up his whole face when his exquisitely modelled lips +parted in a sweet and melancholy smile. + +The contrast between him and the second traveller was very striking. +Beneath his cocked hat escaped a profusion of frizzled hair, red rather +than brown; beneath this mop of hair sparkled a pair of gray eyes which +at the slightest opposition grew so fierce that they seemed black; a +fair complexion, thin lips, a tawny mustache, and admirable teeth +completed the description of his face. Taken all in all, with his white +skin, lofty stature, and broad shoulders, he was indeed a _beau +cavalier_ in the ordinary acceptation of the term, and during the last +hour which he had employed in staring up at all the windows, under the +pretext of looking for signs, he had attracted the general attention of +women, while the men, though they may have felt inclined to laugh at his +scanty cloak, his tight-fitting small-clothes, and his old-fashioned +boots, checked their rising mirth with a most cordial _Dieu vous garde_, +after they had more attentively studied his face, which every moment +assumed a dozen different expressions, but never that good-natured one +characteristic of a bewildered provincial. + +He it was who first addressed the other gentleman who, as I have said, +was gazing at the hostelry of _La Belle Étoile_. + +"By Heaven! monsieur," said he, with that horrible mountain accent which +would instantly distinguish a native of Piedmont among a hundred +strangers, "we are close to the Louvre, are we not? At all events, I +think your choice is the same as mine, and I am highly flattered by it." + +"Monsieur," replied the other, with a Provençal accent which rivalled +that of his companion, "I believe this inn is near the Louvre. However, +I am still deliberating whether or not I shall have the honor of sharing +your opinion. I am in a quandary." + +"You have not yet decided, sir? Nevertheless, the house is attractive. +But perhaps, after all, I have been won over to it by your presence. Yet +you will grant that is a pretty painting?" + +"Very! and it is for that very reason I mistrust it. Paris, I am told, +is full of sharpers, and you may be just as well tricked by a sign as by +anything else." + +"By Heaven!" replied the Piedmontese, "I don't care a fig for their +tricks; and if the host does not serve me a chicken as well roasted as +the one on his sign, I will put him on the spit, nor will I let him off +till I have done him to a turn. Come, let us go in." + +"You have decided me," said the Provençal, laughing; "precede me, I +beg." + +"Oh, sir, on my soul I could not think of it, for I am only your most +obedient servant, the Comte Annibal de Coconnas." + +"And I, monsieur, but the Comte Joseph Hyacinthe Boniface de Lerac de la +Mole, equally at your service." + +"Since that is the case, let us go in together, arm in arm." + +The result of this conciliatory proposition was that the two young men +got off their horses, threw the bridles to the ostler, linked arms, +adjusted their swords, and approached the door of the inn, where the +landlord was standing. But contrary to the custom of men of his +profession, the worthy proprietor seemed not to notice them, so busy was +he talking with a tall, sallow man, wrapped in a drab-colored cloak like +an owl buried in his feathers. + +The two gentlemen were so near the landlord and his friend in the +drab-colored cloak that Coconnas, indignant that he and his companion +should be treated with such lack of consideration, touched the +landlord's sleeve. + +He appeared suddenly to perceive them, and dismissed his friend with an +"_Au revoir!_ come soon and let me know the hour appointed." + +"Well, _monsieur le drole_," said Coconnas, "do not you see we have +business with you?" + +"I beg pardon, gentlemen," said the host; "I did not see you." + +"Eh, by Heaven! then you ought to have seen us; and now that you do see +us, say, 'Monsieur le Comte,' and not merely 'Monsieur,' if you please." + +La Mole stood by, leaving Coconnas, who seemed to have undertaken the +affair, to speak; but by the scowling on his face it was evident that he +was ready to come to his assistance when the moment of action should +present itself. + +"Well, what is your pleasure, Monsieur le Comte?" asked the landlord, in +a quiet tone. + +"Ah, that's better; is it not?" said Coconnas, turning to La Mole, who +nodded affirmatively. "Monsieur le Comte and myself, attracted by the +sign of your establishment, wish to sup and sleep here to-night." + +"Gentlemen," said the host, "I am very sorry, but I have only one +chamber, and I am afraid that would not suit you." + +"So much the better," said La Mole; "we will go and lodge somewhere +else." + +"By no means," said Coconnas, "I shall stay here; my horse is tired. I +will have the room, since you will not." + +"Ah! that is quite different," replied the host, with the same cool tone +of impertinence. "If there is only one of you I cannot lodge you at all, +then." + +"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas, "here's a witty animal! Just now you could +not lodge us because we were two, and now you have not room for one. You +will not lodge us at all, then?" + +"Since you take this high tone, gentlemen, I will answer you frankly." + +"Answer, then; only answer quickly." + +"Well, then, I should prefer not to have the honor of lodging you at +all." + +"For what reason?" asked Coconnas, growing white with rage. + +"Because you have no servants, and for one master's room full, I should +have two servants' rooms empty; so that, if I let you have the master's +room, I run the risk of not letting the others." + +"Monsieur de la Mole," said Coconnas, "do you not think we ought to +massacre this fellow?" + +"Decidedly," said La Mole, preparing himself, together with Coconnas, to +lay his whip over the landlord's back. + +But the landlord contented himself with retreating a step or two, +despite this two-fold demonstration, which was not particularly +reassuring, considering that the two gentlemen appeared so full of +determination. + +"It is easy to see," said he, in a tone of raillery, "that these +gentlemen are just from the provinces. At Paris it is no longer the +fashion to massacre innkeepers who refuse to let them rooms--only great +men are massacred nowadays and not the common people; and if you make +any disturbance, I will call my neighbors, and you shall be beaten +yourselves, and that would be an indignity for two such gentlemen." + +"Why! he is laughing at us," cried Coconnas, in a rage. + +"Grégoire, my arquebuse," said the host, with the same voice with which +he would have said, "Give these gentleman a chair." + +"_Trippe del papa!_" cried Coconnas, drawing his sword; "warm up, +Monsieur de la Mole." + +"No, no; for while we warm up, our supper will get cold." + +"What, you think"--cried Coconnas. + +"That Monsieur de la Belle Étoile is right; only he does not know how to +treat his guests, especially when they are gentlemen, for instead of +brutally saying, 'Gentlemen, I do not want you,' it would have been +better if he had said, 'Enter, gentlemen'--at the same time reserving to +himself the right to charge in his bill, master's room, so much; +servants' room, so much." + +With these words, La Mole gently pushed by the landlord, who was just on +the point of taking his arquebuse, and entered with Coconnas. + +"Well," said Coconnas, "I am sorry to sheathe my sword before I have +ascertained that it is as sharp as that rascal's larding-needle." + +"Patience, my dear friend, patience," said La Mole. "All the inns in +Paris are full of gentlemen come to attend the King of Navarre's +marriage or attracted by the approaching war with Flanders; we should +not find another lodging; besides, perhaps it is the custom at Paris to +receive strangers in this manner." + +"By Heaven! how patient you are, Monsieur de la Mole!" muttered +Coconnas, curling his red mustache with rage and hurling the lightning +of his eyes on the landlord. "But let the scoundrel take care; for if +his cooking be bad, if his bed be hard, his wine less than three years +in bottle, and his waiter be not as pliant as a reed"-- + +"There! there! my dear gentleman!" said the landlord, whetting his knife +on a strap, "you may make yourself easy; you are in the land of +Cocagne." + +Then in a low tone he added: + +"These are some Huguenots; traitors have grown so insolent since the +marriage of their Béarnais with Mademoiselle Margot!" + +Then, with a smile that would have made his guests shudder had they seen +it: + +"How strange it would be if I were just to have two Huguenots come to my +house, when"-- + +"Now, then," interrupted Coconnas, pointedly, "are we going to have any +supper?" + +"Yes, as soon as you please, monsieur," returned the landlord, softened, +no doubt, by the last reflection. + +"Well, then, the sooner the better," said Coconnas; and turning to La +Mole: + +"Pray, Monsieur le Comte, while they are putting our room in order, tell +me, do you think Paris seems a gay city?" + +"Faith! no," said La Mole. "All the faces I have seen looked scared or +forbidding; perhaps the Parisians also are afraid of the storm; see how +very black the sky is, and the air feels heavy." + +"Tell me, count, are you not bound for the Louvre?" + +"Yes! and you also, Monsieur de Coconnas." + +"Well, let us go together." + +"It is rather late to go out, is it not?" said La Mole. + +"Early or late, I must go; my orders are peremptory--'Come instantly to +Paris, and report to the Duc de Guise without delay.'" + +At the Duc de Guise's name the landlord drew nearer. + +"I think the rascal is listening to us," said Coconnas, who, as a true +son of Piedmont, was very truculent, and could not forgive the +proprietor of _La Belle Étoile_ his rude reception of them. + +"I am listening, gentlemen," replied he, taking off his cap; "but it is +to serve you. I heard the great duke's name mentioned, and I came +immediately. What can I do for you, gentlemen?" + +"Aha! that name is magical, since it renders you so polite. Tell me, +maître,--what's your name?" + +"Maître la Hurière," replied the host, bowing. + +"Well, Maître la Hurière, do you think my arm is lighter than the Duc de +Guise's, who makes you so civil?" + +"No, Monsieur le Comte, but it is not so long," replied La Hurière; +"besides," he added, "I must tell you that the great Henry is the idol +of us Parisians." + +"Which Henry?" asked La Mole. + +"It seems to me there is only one," replied the landlord. + +"You are mistaken; there is another, whom I desire you do not speak ill +of, and that is Henry of Navarre; and then there is Henry de Condé, who +has his share of merit." + +"I do not know them," said the landlord. + +"But I do; and as I am on my way to the King of Navarre, I desire you +not to speak slightingly of him before me." + +The landlord replied by merely touching his cap, and continued to lavish +his assiduities on Coconnas: + +"So monsieur is going to see the great Duc de Guise? Monsieur is a very +fortunate gentleman; he has come, no doubt, for"-- + +"What?" asked Coconnas. + +"For the festivity," replied the host, with a singular smile. + +"You should say for the festivities," replied Coconnas; "for Paris, I +hear, runs riot with festivals; at least there is nothing talked about +but balls, festivals, and orgies. Does not every one find plenty of +amusement?" + +"A moderate amount, but they will have more soon, I hope." + +"But the marriage of his majesty the King of Navarre has brought a great +many people to Paris, has it not?" said La Mole. + +"A great many Huguenots--yes," replied La Hurière, but suddenly changing +his tone: + +"Pardon me, gentlemen," said he, "perhaps you are of that religion?" + +"I," cried Coconnas, "I am as good a Catholic as the pope himself." + +La Hurière looked at La Mole, but La Mole did not or would not +comprehend him. + +"If you do not know the King of Navarre, Maître La Hurière," said La +Mole, "perhaps you know the admiral. I have heard he has some influence +at court, and as I have letters for him, perhaps you will tell me where +he lives, if his name does not take the skin off your lips." + +"He _did_ live in the Rue de Béthizy down here at the right," replied +the landlord, with an inward satisfaction he could not conceal. + +"He _did_ live?" exclaimed La Mole. "Has he changed his residence?" + +"Yes--from this world, perhaps." + +"What do you mean?" cried both the gentlemen together, "the admiral +removed from this world?" + +"What, Monsieur de Coconnas," pursued the landlord, with a shrewd smile, +"are you a friend of the Duc de Guise, and do not know _that_?" + +"Know what?" + +"That the day before yesterday, as the admiral was passing along the +place Saint Germain l'Auxerrois before the house of the Canon Pierre +Piles, he was fired at"-- + +"And killed?" said La Mole. + +"No; he had his arm broken and two fingers taken off; but it is hoped +the balls were poisoned." + +"How, wretch!" cried La Mole; "hoped?" + +"Believed, I mean," said the landlord, winking at Coconnas; "do not take +a word too seriously, it was a slip of the tongue." + +And Maître La Hurière, turning his back on La Mole, poked out his tongue +at Coconnas in the most insulting way, accompanying this action with a +meaning wink. + +"Really!" said Coconnas, joyfully. + +"Really!" said La Mole, with sorrowful stupefaction. + +"It is just as I have the honor of telling you, gentlemen," said the +landlord. + +"In that case," said La Mole, "I must go instantly to the Louvre. Shall +I find the King of Navarre there?" + +"Most likely, since he lives there." + +"And I," said Coconnas, "must also go to the Louvre. Shall I find the +Duc de Guise there?" + +"Most likely; for only a moment ago I saw him pass with two hundred +gentlemen." + +"Come, then, Monsieur de Coconnas," said La Mole. + +"I will follow you, sir," replied Coconnas. + +"But your supper, gentlemen!" cried La Hurière. + +"Ah," said La Mole, "I shall most likely sup with the King of Navarre." + +"And I," said Coconnas, "with the Duc de Guise." + +"And I," said the landlord, after having watched the two gentlemen on +their way to the Louvre, "I will go and burnish my sallet, put a match +to my arquebuse, and sharpen my partisan, for no one knows what may +happen." + + + + +CHAPTER V. + +OF THE LOUVRE IN PARTICULAR, AND OF VIRTUE IN GENERAL. + + +The two young men, directed by the first person they met, went down the +Rue d'Averon, the Rue Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, and soon found +themselves before the Louvre, the towers of which were beginning to be +lost in the early shades of the gloaming. + +"What is the matter with you?" asked Coconnas of La Mole, who, as they +came in sight of the old château, stopped and gazed, not without awe, on +the drawbridges, the narrow windows, and the pointed belfries, which +suddenly rose before his vision. + +"I scarcely know," said La Mole; "my heart beats strangely. I am not +timid, but somehow this old palace seems so gloomy and terrible." + +"Well, as for me, I don't know any reason for it," replied Coconnas, +"but I feel in excellent spirits. My dress is somewhat disordered," he +went on to say, glancing at his travelling costume, "but never mind, it +looks as if I had been riding. Besides, my instructions commanded +promptness and I shall be welcome because I shall have obeyed +punctually." + +The two young men continued their way, each under the influence of the +feelings he had expressed. + +There was a strong guard at the Louvre and the sentinels were doubled. +Our two cavaliers were somewhat embarrassed, therefore, but Coconnas, +who had noticed that the Duc de Guise's name acted like a talisman on +the Parisians, approached a sentinel, and making use of the +all-powerful name, asked if by means of it he might not be allowed to +enter. + +The name seemed to produce its ordinary effect upon the soldier; +nevertheless he asked Coconnas if he had the countersign. + +Coconnas was forced to confess he had not. + +"Stand back, then," said the soldier. + +At this moment a person who was talking with the officer of the guard +and who had overheard Coconnas ask leave to enter, broke off his +conversation and came to him. + +"Vat do you vant with Monsieur dee Gouise?" asked he. + +"I wish to see him," said Coconnas, smiling. + +"Imbossible! the duke is mit the King." + +"But I have a letter for him." + +"Ah, you haf a ledder for him?" + +"Yes, and I have come a long distance." + +"Ah! you haf gome a long tistance?" + +"I have come from Piedmont." + +"Vell, vell! dat iss anodder ting. And vat iss your name?" + +"The Comte Annibal de Coconnas." + +"Goot! goot! kif me the ledder, Monsieur Annibal, kif it to me!" + +"On my word," said La Mole to himself, "a very civil man. I hope I may +find one like him to conduct me to the King of Navarre." + +"But kif me the ledder," said the German gentleman, holding out his hand +toward Coconnas, who hesitated. + +"By Heaven!" replied the Piedmontese, distrustful like a half-Italian, +"I scarcely know whether I ought, as I have not the honor of knowing +you." + +"I am Pesme; I'm addached to Monsir le Douque de Gouise." + +"Pesme," murmured Coconnas; "I am not acquainted with that name." + +"It is Monsieur de Besme, my dear sir," said the sentinel. "His +pronunciation misled you, that is all; you may safely give him your +letter, I'll answer for it." + +"Ah! Monsieur de Besme!" cried Coconnas; "of course I know you! with the +greatest pleasure. Here is the letter. Pardon my hesitation; but +fidelity requires one to be careful." + +"Goot, goot! dere iss no need of any egscuse," said Besme. + +"Perhaps, sir," said La Mole, "you will be so kind as to the same for my +letter that you have done for my friend?" + +"And vat iss your name, monsir?" + +"The Comte Lerac de la Mole." + +"Gount Lerag dee la Mole?" + +"Yes." + +"I don't know de name." + +"It is not strange that I have not the honor of being known to you, sir, +for like the Comte de Coconnas I am only just arrived in Paris." + +"Where do you gome from?" + +"From Provence." + +"Vit a ledder?" + +"Yes." + +"For Monsir dee Gouise?" + +"No; for his majesty the King of Navarre." + +"I do not pelong to de King of Navarre," said De Besme coldly, "and +derefore I gannot dake your ledder." + +And turning on his heel, he entered the Louvre, bidding Coconnas follow +him. + +La Mole was left alone. + +At this moment a troop of cavaliers, about a hundred in number, came out +from the Louvre by a gate alongside that of which Besme and Coconnas had +entered. + +"Aha!" said the sentinel to his comrade, "there are De Mouy and his +Huguenots! See how joyous they all are! The King has probably promised +them to put to death the assassin of the admiral; and as it was he who +murdered De Mouy's father, the son will kill two birds with one stone." + +"Excuse me, my good fellow," interrupted La Mole, "did you not say that +officer is M. de Mouy?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"And that those with him are"-- + +"Are heretics--I said so." + +"Thank you," said La Mole, affecting not to notice the scornful word +_parpaillots_, employed by the sentinel. "That was all I wished to +know;" and advancing to the chief of the cavaliers: + +"Sir," said he, "I am told you are M. de Mouy." + +"Yes, sir," returned the officer, courteously. + +"Your name, well known among those of our faith, emboldens me to address +you, sir, to ask a special favor." + +"What may that be, sir,--but first whom have I the honor of addressing?" + +"The Comte Lerac de la Mole." + +The young men bowed to each other. + +"What can I do for you, sir?" asked De Mouy. + +"Sir, I am just arrived from Aix, and bring a letter from M. d'Auriac, +Governor of Provence. This letter is directed to the King of Navarre and +contains important and pressing news. How can I give it to him? How can +I enter the Louvre?" + +"Nothing is easier than to enter the Louvre, sir," replied De Mouy; "but +I fear the King of Navarre will be too busy to see you at this hour. +However, if you please, I will take you to his apartments, and then you +must manage for yourself." + +"A thousand thanks!" + +"Come, then," said De Mouy. + +De Mouy dismounted, threw the reins to his lackey, stepped toward the +wicket, passed the sentinel, conducted La Mole into the château, and, +opening the door leading to the king's apartments: + +"Enter, and inquire for yourself, sir," said he. + +And saluting La Mole, he retired. + +La Mole, left alone, looked round. + +The ante-room was vacant. One of the inner doors was open. He advanced +a few paces and found himself in a passage. + +He knocked and spoke, but no one answered. The profoundest silence +reigned in this part of the Louvre. + +"What was told me about the stern etiquette of this place?" said he to +himself. "One may come and go in this palace as if it were a public +place." + +Then he called again, but without obtaining any better result than +before. + +"Well, let us walk straight on," thought he, "I must meet some one," and +he proceeded down the corridor, which grew darker and darker. + +Suddenly the door opposite that by which he had entered opened, and two +pages appeared, lighting a lady of noble bearing and exquisite beauty. + +The glare of the torches fell full on La Mole, who stood motionless. + +The lady stopped also. + +"What do you want, sir?" said she, in a voice which fell upon his ears +like exquisite music. + +"Oh, madame," said La Mole, casting down his eyes, "pardon me; I have +just parted from M. de Mouy, who was so good as to conduct me here, and +I wish to see the King of Navarre." + +"His majesty is not here, sir; he is with his brother-in-law. But, in +his absence, could you not say to the queen"-- + +"Oh, yes, madame," returned La Mole, "if I could obtain audience of +her." + +"You have it already, sir." + +"What?" cried La Mole. + +"I am the Queen of Navarre." + +La Mole made such a hasty movement of surprise and alarm that it caused +the queen to smile. + +"Speak, sir," said Marguerite, "but speak quickly, for the queen mother +is waiting for me." + +"Oh, madame, if the queen mother is waiting for you," said La Mole, +"suffer me to leave you, for just now it would be impossible for me to +speak to you. I am incapable of collecting my ideas. The sight of you +has dazzled me. I no longer think, I can only admire." + +Marguerite advanced graciously toward the handsome young man, who, +without knowing it, was acting like a finished courtier. + +"Recover yourself, sir," said she; "I will wait and they will wait for +me." + +"Pardon me, madame," said La Mole, "if I did not salute your majesty at +first with all the respect which you have a right to expect from one of +your humblest servants, but"-- + +"You took me for one of my ladies?" said Marguerite. + +"No, madame; but for the shade of the beautiful Diane de Poitiers, who +is said to haunt the Louvre." + +"Come, sir," said Marguerite, "I see you will make your fortune at +court; you said you had a letter for the king, it was not needed, but no +matter! Where is it? I will give it to him--only make haste, I beg of +you." + +In a twinkling La Mole threw open his doublet, and drew from his breast +a letter enveloped in silk. + +Marguerite took the letter, and glanced at the writing. + +"Are you not Monsieur de la Mole?" asked she. + +"Yes, madame. Oh, _mon Dieu_! Can I hope my name is known to your +majesty?" + +"I have heard the king, my husband, and the Duc d'Alençon, my brother, +speak of you. I know they expect you." + +And in her corsage, glittering with embroidery and diamonds, she slipped +the letter which had just come from the young man's doublet and was +still warm from the vital heat of his body. La Mole eagerly watched +Marguerite's every movement. + +"Now, sir," said she, "descend to the gallery below, and wait until some +one comes to you from the King of Navarre or the Duc d'Alençon. One of +my pages will show you the way." + +And Marguerite, as she said these words, went on her way. La Mole drew +himself up close to the wall. But the passage was so narrow and the +Queen of Navarre's farthingale was so voluminous that her silken gown +brushed against the young man's clothes, while a penetrating perfume +hovered where she passed. + +La Mole trembled all over and, feeling that he was in danger of falling, +he tried to find a support against the wall. + +Marguerite disappeared like a vision. + +"Are you coming, sir?" asked the page who was to conduct La Mole to the +lower gallery. + +"Oh, yes--yes!" cried La Mole, joyfully; for as the page led him the +same way by which Marguerite had gone, he hoped that by making haste he +might see her again. + +And in truth, as he reached the top of the staircase, he perceived her +below; and whether she heard his step or looked round by chance, +Marguerite raised her head, and La Mole saw her a second time. + +"Oh," said he, as he followed the page, "she is not a mortal--she is a +goddess, and as Vergilius Maro says: '_Et vera incessu patuit dea._'" + +"Well?" asked the page. + +"Here I am," replied La Mole, "excuse me, here I am." + +The page, preceding La Mole, descended a story lower, opened one door, +then another, and stopping, + +"You are to wait here," said he. + +La Mole entered the gallery, the door of which closed after him. + +The gallery was vacant except for one gentleman, who was sauntering up +and down, and seemed also waiting for some one. + +The evening was by this time beginning to scatter monstrous shadows from +the depths of the vaulted ceiling, and though the two gentlemen were not +twenty paces apart, it was impossible for either to recognize the +other's face. + +La Mole drew nearer. + +"By Heaven!" muttered he as soon as he was within a few feet of the +other, "here is Monsieur le Comte de Coconnas again!" + +At the sound of footsteps Coconnas had already turned, and was staring +at La Mole with no less astonishment than the other showed. + +"By Heaven!" cried he. "The devil take me but here is Monsieur de la +Mole! What am I doing? Swearing in the King's palace? Well, never mind; +it seems the King swears in a different way from mine, and even in +churches. Here we are at last, then, in the Louvre!" + +"Yes; I suppose Monsieur de Besme introduced you?" + +"Oh, he is a charming German. Who brought you in?" + +"M. de Mouy--I told you the Huguenots had some interest at court. Have +you seen Monsieur de Guise?" + +"No, not yet. Have you obtained your audience with the King of Navarre?" + +"No, but I soon shall. I was brought here and told to wait." + +"Ah, you will see there is some great supper under way and we shall be +placed side by side. What a strange chance! For two hours fortune has +joined us! But what is the matter? You seem ill at ease." + +"I?" exclaimed La Mole, shivering, for in truth he was still dazzled by +the vision which had been vouchsafed him. "Oh, no, but the place in +which we are brings into my mind a throng of reflections." + +"Philosophical ones, I suppose. Just the same as it is with me. When you +came in I was just going over in my mind all my tutor's recommendations. +Monsieur le Comte, are you acquainted with Plutarch?" + +"Certainly I am!" exclaimed La Mole, smiling, "he is one of my favorite +authors." + +"Very well," Coconnas went on gravely, "this great man does not seem to +me so far wrong when he compares the gifts of nature to brilliant but +ephemeral flowers, while he regards virtue as a balsamic plant of +imperishable perfume and sovereign efficacy for the healing of wounds." + +"Do you know Greek, Monsieur de Coconnas?" said La Mole, gazing keenly +at his companion. + +"No, I do not; but my tutor did, and he strongly advised me when I +should be at court to talk about virtue. 'That looks well,' he said. So +I assure you I am well fortified with it. By the way, are you hungry?" + +"No." + +"And yet you seemed anxious to taste the broiled fowl of _La Belle +Étoile_. As for me, I am dying of starvation!" + +"Well, Monsieur de Coconnas, here is a fine chance for you to make use +of your arguments on virtue and to put your admiration for Plutarch to +the proof, for that great writer says somewhere: 'It is good to accustom +the soul to pain and the stomach to hunger'--'_Prepon esti tên men +psvchên odunê, ton de gastéra semó askeïn._'" + +"Ah, indeed! So you know Greek?" exclaimed Coconnas in surprise. + +"Faith, yes," replied La Mole, "my tutor taught me." + +"By Heaven! count, your fortune is made if that is so; you will compose +poetry with Charles IX. and you will talk Greek with Queen Marguerite!" + +"Not to reckon that I can still talk Gascon with the King of Navarre!" +added La Mole, laughing. + +At this moment the door communicating with the King's apartment opened, +a step was heard, and a shade was seen approaching in the darkness. This +shade materialized into a body. This body belonged to Monsieur de Besme. + +He scrutinized both gentlemen, so as to pick out the one he wanted, and +then motioned Coconnas to follow him. + +Coconnas waved his hand to La Mole. + +De Besme conducted Coconnas to the end of the gallery, opened a door, +and stood at the head of a staircase. + +He looked cautiously round, then up and down. + +"Monsir de Gogonnas," said he, "vere are you staying?" + +"At _La Belle Étoile_, Rue de l'Arbre Sec." + +"Goot, goot! dat is glose by. Go pack to your hodel gwick and +to-nide"-- + +He looked around him again. + +"Well, to-night?" + +"Vell, gome here mit a vite gross in your hat. De bassvord is 'Gouise.' +Hush! nod a vord." + +"What time am I to come?" + +"Ven you hear de dogsin." + +"What's the dogsin?" asked Coconnas. + +"Ja! de dogsin--pum! pum!" + +"Oh! the tocsin!" + +"Ja, vot elus tid I zay?" + +"Good--I shall be here," said Coconnas. + +And, saluting De Besme, he took his departure, asking himself: + +"What the devil does he mean and why should the tocsin be rung? No +matter! I persist in my opinion: Monsieur de Besme is a charming +Tedesco--Why not wait for the Comte de la Mole? Ah faith, no! he will +probably be invited to supper with the King of Navarre." + +And Coconnas set forth for the Rue de l'Arbre Sec, where the sign of _La +Belle Étoile_ like a lodestone attracted him. + +Meantime a gallery door which led to the King of Navarre's apartment +opened, and a page approached Monsieur de la Mole. + +"You are the Comte de la Mole?" said he. + +"That is my name." + +"Where do you lodge?" + +"At _La Belle Étoile_, Rue de l'Arbre Sec." + +"Good, that is close to the Louvre. Listen--his majesty the King of +Navarre has desired me to inform you that he cannot at present receive +you; perhaps he may send for you to-night; but if to-morrow morning you +have received no word, come to the Louvre." + +"But supposing the sentinel refuse me admission." + +"True: the countersign is 'Navarre;' that word will open all doors to +you." + +"Thanks." + +"Wait, my dear sir, I am ordered to escort you to the wicket gate for +fear you should get lost in the Louvre." + +"By the way, how about Coconnas?" said La Mole to himself as soon as he +was fairly in the street. "Oh, he will remain to supper with the Duc de +Guise." + +But as soon as he entered Maître la Hurière's the first thing La Mole +saw was Coconnas seated before a gigantic omelet. + +"Oho!" cried Coconnas, laughing heartily, "I see you have no more dined +with the King of Navarre than I have supped with the Duc de Guise." + +"Faith, no." + +"Are you hungry now?" + +"I believe I am." + +"In spite of Plutarch?" + +"Count," said La Mole, laughing, "Plutarch says in another place: 'Let +him that hath, share with him that hath not.' Are you willing for the +love of Plutarch to share your omelet with me? Then while we eat we will +converse on virtue!" + +"Oh, faith, not on that subject," cried Coconnas. "It is all right when +one is at the Louvre and there is danger of eavesdroppers and one's +stomach is empty. Sit down and have something to eat with me." + +"There, now I see that fate has decidedly made us inseparable. Are you +going to sleep here?" + +"I have not the least idea." + +"Nor I either." + +"At any rate, I know where I shall spend the night." + +"Where?" + +"Wherever you do: that is settled." + +And both burst out laughing and then set to work to do honor to Maître +la Hurière's omelet. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. + +THE DEBT PAID. + + +Now if the reader is curious to know why Monsieur de la Mole was not +received by the King of Navarre, why Monsieur de Coconnas was not +permitted to see Monsieur de Guise, and lastly, why instead of eating +pheasants, partridges, and venison at the Louvre, both supped at the +hotel of the _Belle Étoile_ on an omelet, he must kindly accompany us to +the old palace of kings, and follow the queen, Marguerite of Navarre, +whom La Mole had lost from sight at the entrance of the grand gallery. + +While Marguerite was descending the staircase, the duke, Henry de Guise, +whom she had not seen since the night of her marriage, was in the King's +closet. To this staircase which Marguerite was descending there was an +outlet. To the closet in which Monsieur de Guise was there was a door, +and this door and this outlet both led to a corridor, which corridor led +to the apartments of the queen mother, Catharine de Médicis. + +Catharine de Médicis was alone, seated near a table, with her elbow +leaning on a prayer-book half open, and her head leaning on a hand still +remarkably beautiful,--by reason of the cosmetics with which she was +supplied by the Florentine Réné, who united the double duty of perfumer +and poisoner to the queen mother. + +The widow of Henry II. was clothed in mourning, which she had not thrown +off since her husband's death. At this period she was about fifty-two or +fifty-three years of age, and owing to her stoutness and fair complexion +she preserved much of her early beauty. + +Her rooms, like her dress, paraded her widowhood. Everything in them +bore the impress of bereavement: hangings, walls, and furniture were all +in mourning. Only above a kind of dais covering a throne, where at that +moment lay sleeping the little greyhound presented to the queen mother +by her son-in-law, Henry of Navarre, and bearing the mythological name +of Phoebe, was a painted rainbow surrounded by that Greek motto which +King François I. had given her: "_Phôs pherei ê de kai a'íthzên_;" which +may be translated: + +"_He brings light and serenity._" + +Suddenly, and at a moment when the queen mother appeared deeply plunged +in some thought which brought a half-hesitating smile to her +carmen-painted lips, a man opened the door, raised the tapestry, and +showed his pale face, saying: + +"Everything is going badly." + +Catharine raised her head and recognized the Duc de Guise. + +"Why do you say 'Everything is going badly'?" she replied. "What do you +mean, Henry?" + +"I mean that the King is more than ever taken with the accursed +Huguenots; and if we await his leave to execute the great enterprise, we +shall wait a very long time, and perhaps forever." + +"Tell me what has happened," said Catharine, still preserving the +tranquillity of countenance habitual to her, yet to which, when occasion +served, she could give such different expressions. + +"Why, just now, for the twentieth time, I asked his Majesty whether he +would still permit all those bravadoes which the gentlemen of the +reformed religion indulge in, since their admiral was wounded." + +"And what did my son reply?" asked Catharine. + +"He replied, 'Monsieur le Duc, you must necessarily be suspected by the +people as the author of the attempted assassination of my second father, +the admiral; defend yourself from the imputation as best you may. As to +me, I will defend myself properly, if I am insulted;' and then he turned +away to feed his dogs." + +"And you made no attempt to retain him?" + +"Certainly I did; but he replied to me, in that tone which you so well +know, and looking at me with the gaze peculiar to him, 'Monsieur le Duc, +my dogs are hungry; and they are not men, whom I can keep waiting.' +Whereupon I came straight to you." + +"And you have done right," said the queen mother. + +"But what is now to be done?" + +"Try a last effort." + +"And who will try it?" + +"I will! Is the King alone?" + +"No; M. de Tavannes is with him." + +"Await me here; or, rather, follow me at a distance." + +Catharine instantly rose and went to the chamber, where on Turkey +carpets and velvet cushions were the King's favorite greyhounds. On +perches ranged along the wall were two or three valuable falcons and a +small shrike, with which Charles IX. amused himself in bringing down the +little birds in the garden of the Louvre, and that of the Tuileries, +which they had just begun building. + +On her way the queen mother put on a pale and anguished expression, +while down her cheeks rolled a last or rather a first tear. + +She noiselessly approached Charles IX. as he was giving his dogs +fragments of cakes cut into equal portions. + +"My son," said the queen, with a trembling in her voice so cleverly +affected that the King started. + +"What is it, madame?" said Charles, turning round suddenly. + +"My son," replied Catharine, "I would ask your leave to retire to one of +your châteaux, no matter which, so that it be as distant as possible +from Paris." + +"And wherefore, madame?" inquired Charles IX., fixing on his mother that +glassy eye which, on certain occasions, became so penetrating. + +"Because every day I receive new insults from persons of the new faith; +because to-day I hear that you have been threatened by the Protestants +even in your own Louvre, and I do not desire to be present at such +spectacles." + +"But then, madame," replied Charles IX., with an expression full of +conviction, "an attempt has been made to kill their admiral. An infamous +murderer has already assassinated the brave M. de Mouy. _Mort de ma +vie_, mother, there must be justice in a kingdom!" + +"Oh, be easy on that head, my son," said Catharine; "they will not fail +justice; for if you should refuse it, they will still have it in their +own way: on M. de Guise to-day, on me to-morrow, and yourself later." + +"Oh, madame!" said Charles, allowing a first accent of doubt to show in +his voice, "do you think so?" + +"Oh, my son," replied Catharine, giving way entirely to the violence of +her thoughts, "do you not see that it is no longer a question of +François de Guise's death or the admiral's, of the Protestant religion +or the Catholic religion, but simply of the substitution of Antoine de +Bourbon's son for the son of Henry the Second?" + +"Come, come, mother, you are falling again into your usual +exaggeration," said the King. + +"What, then, have you in mind, my son?" + +"To wait, mother,--to wait. All human wisdom is in this single word. The +greatest, the strongest, the most skilful is he who knows how to wait." + +"You may wait, then; I will not." + +Catharine made a courtesy, and stepping towards the door, was about to +return to her apartment. + +Charles IX. stopped her. + +"Well, then, really, what is best to be done, mother?" he asked, "for +above all I am just, and I would have every one satisfied with me." + +Catharine turned toward him. + +"Come, count," she said to Tavannes, who was caressing the King's +shrike, "tell the King your opinion as to what should be done." + +"Will your Majesty permit me?" inquired the count. + +"Speak, Tavannes!--speak." + +"What does your Majesty do when, in the chase, the wounded boar turns on +you?" + +"By Heaven! monsieur, I wait for him, with firm foot," replied Charles, +"and stab him in the throat with my boar-spear." + +"Simply that he may not hurt you," remarked Catharine. + +"And to amuse myself," said the King, with a sigh which indicated +courage easily aroused even to ferocity; "but I should not amuse myself +killing my subjects; for, after all, the Huguenots are my subjects, as +well as the Catholics." + +"Then, sire," said Catharine, "your subjects, the Huguenots, will do +like the wild boar who escapes the spear thrust into his throat: they +will bring down the throne." + +"Nonsense! Do you really think so, madame?" said Charles IX., with an +air which denoted that he did not place great faith in his mother's +predictions. + +"But have you not seen M. de Mouy and his party to-day?" + +"Yes; I have seen them, for I have just left them. But what does he ask +for that is not just? He has requested that his father's murderer and +the admiral's assassin be put to death. Did we not punish M. de +Montgommery for the death of my father and your husband, although that +death was a simple accident?" + +"Very well, sire," said Catharine, piqued, "let us say no more. Your +majesty is under the protection of that God who gives you strength, +wisdom, and confidence. But I, a poor woman whom God abandons, no doubt +on account of my sins, fear and yield." + +And having said this, Catharine again courteseyed and left the room, +making a sign to the Duc de Guise, who had at that moment entered, to +remain in her place, and try a last effort. + +Charles IX. followed his mother with his eye, but this time did not +recall her. He then began to caress his dogs, whistling a hunting-air. + +He suddenly paused. + +"My mother," said he, "is a royal spirit, and has scruples! Really, now, +it is a cool proposal, to kill off some dozens of Huguenots because they +come to demand justice! Is it not their right?" + +"Some dozens!" murmured the Duc de Guise. + +"Ah! are you here, sir?" said the King, pretending to see him for the +first time. "Yes, some dozens. A tolerable waste of life! Ah! if any one +came to me and said; 'Sire, you shall be rid of all your enemies at +once, and to-morrow there shall not remain one to reproach you with the +death of the others,' why, then, I do not say"-- + +"Well, sire?" + +"Tavannes," said the King, "you will tire Margot; put her back on her +perch. It is no reason, because she bears the name of my sister, the +Queen of Navarre, that every one should caress her." + +Tavannes put the hawk on her perch, and amused himself by curling and +uncurling a greyhound's ears. + +"But, sire, if any one should say to your Majesty: 'Sire, your Majesty +shall be delivered from all your enemies to-morrow'?" + +"And by the intercession of what saint would this miracle be wrought?" + +"Sire, to-day is the 24th of August, and therefore it would be by the +interposition of Saint Bartholomew." + +"A worthy saint," replied the King, "who allowed himself to be skinned +alive!" + +"So much the better; the more he suffered, the more he ought to have +felt a desire for vengeance on his executioners." + +"And will you, my cousin," said the King, "will you, with your pretty +little gold-hilted sword, slay ten thousand Huguenots between now and +to-morrow? Ha! ha! ha! _mort de ma vie!_ you are very amusing, Monsieur +de Guise!" + +And the King burst into a loud laugh, but a laugh so forced that the +room echoed with its sinister sound. + +"Sire, one word--and one only," continued the duke, shuddering in spite +of himself at the sound of that laugh, which had nothing human in +it,--"one signal, and all is ready. I have the Swiss and eleven hundred +gentlemen; I have the light horse and the citizens; your Majesty has +your guards, your friends, the Catholic nobility. We are twenty to one." + +"Well, then, cousin, since you are so strong, why the devil do you come +to fill my ears with all this? Act without me--act"-- + +And the King turned again to his dogs. + +Then the portière was raised, and Catharine reappeared. + +"All goes well," she said to the duke; "urge him, and he will yield." + +And the portière fell on Catharine, without Charles IX. seeing, or at +least appearing to see her. + +"But yet," continued De Guise, "I must know if, in acting as I desire, I +shall act agreeably to your Majesty's views." + +"Really, cousin Henry, you put the knife to my throat! But I shall live. +By Heaven! am I not the king?" + +"No, not yet, sire; but, if you will, you shall be so to-morrow." + +"Ah--what!" continued Charles, "you would kill the King of Navarre, the +Prince de Condé--in my Louvre--ah!" + +Then he added, in a voice scarcely audible,--"Without the walls, I do +not say"-- + +"Sire," cried the duke, "they are going out this evening to join in a +revel with your brother, the Duc d'Alençon." + +"Tavannes," said the King, with well-affected impatience, "do not you +see that you are teasing the dog? Here, Actéon,--come!" + +And Charles IX. went out without waiting to hear more, and Tavannes and +the Duc de Guise were left almost as uncertain as before. + + * * * * * + +Meantime another scene was passing in Catharine's apartment. After she +had given the Duc de Guise her counsel to remain firm, she returned to +her rooms, where she found assembled the persons who were usually +present when she went to bed. + +Her face was now as full of joy as it had been downcast when she set +out. With her most agreeable manner she dismissed her women one by one +and her courtiers, and there remained only Madame Marguerite, who, +seated on a coffer near the open window, was looking at the sky, +absorbed in thought. + +Two or three times, when she thus found herself alone with her daughter, +the queen mother opened her mouth to speak, but each time a gloomy +thought withheld the words ready to escape her lips. + +Suddenly the portière was raised, and Henry of Navarre appeared. + +The little greyhound, which was asleep on the throne, leaped up and +bounded towards him. + +"You here, my son!" said Catharine, starting. "Do you sup in the Louvre +to-night?" + +"No, madame," replied Henry, "we are going into the city to-night, with +Messieurs d'Alençon and De Condé. I almost expected to find them here +paying their court to you." + +Catharine smiled. + +"Go, gentlemen, go--men are so fortunate in being able to go about as +they please! Are they not, my daughter?" + +"Yes," replied Marguerite, "liberty is so glorious, so sweet a thing." + +"Does that imply that I restrict yours, madame?" inquired Henry, bowing +to his wife. + +"No, sire; I do not complain for myself, but for women in general." + +"Are you going to see the admiral, my son?" asked Catharine. + +"Yes, possibly." + +"Go, that will set a good example, and to-morrow you will give me news +of him." + +"Then, madame, I will go, since you approve of this step." + +"Oh," said Catharine, "my approval is nothing--But who goes there? Send +him away, send him away." + +Henry started to go to the door to carry out Catharine's order; but at +the same instant the portière was raised and Madame de Sauve showed her +blond head. + +"Madame," said she, "it is Réné, the perfumer, whom your majesty sent +for." + +Catharine cast a glance as quick as lightning at Henry of Navarre. + +The young prince turned slightly red and then fearfully pale. Indeed, +the name of his mother's assassin had been spoken; he felt that his face +betrayed his emotion, and he went and leaned against the bar of the +window. + +The little greyhound growled. + +At the same moment two persons entered--the one announced, and the other +having no need to be so. + +The first was Réné, the perfumer, who approached Catharine with all the +servile obsequiousness of Florentine servants. He held in his hand a +box, which he opened, and all the compartments were seen filled with +powders and flasks. + +The second was Madame de Lorraine, Marguerite's eldest sister. She +entered by a small secret door, which led from the King's closet, and, +all pale and trembling, and hoping not to be observed by Catharine, who +was examining, with Madame de Sauve, the contents of the box brought by +René, seated herself beside Marguerite, near whom the King of Navarre +was standing, with his hand on his brow, like one who tries to rouse +himself from some sudden shock. + +At this instant Catharine turned round. + +"Daughter," she said to Marguerite, "you may retire to your room. My +son, you may go and amuse yourself in the city." + +Marguerite rose, and Henry turned half round. + +Madame de Lorraine seized Marguerite's hand. + +"Sister," she whispered, with great quickness, "in the name of the Duc +de Guise, who now saves you, as you saved him, do not go from here--do +not go to your apartments." + +"Eh! what say you, Claude?" inquired Catharine, turning round. + +"Nothing, mother." + +"You were whispering to Marguerite." + +"Simply to wish her good-night, and convey a greeting to her from the +Duchesse de Nevers." + +"And where is that fair duchess?" + +"At her brother-in-law's, M. de Guise's." + +Catharine looked suspiciously at the women and frowning: + +"Come here, Claude," said the queen mother. + +Claude obeyed, and the queen seized her hand. + +"What did you say to her, indiscreet girl that you are?" she murmured, +squeezing her daughter's wrist until she nearly shrieked with pain. + +"Madame," said Henry to his wife, having lost nothing of the movements +of the queen, Claude, or Marguerite,--"madame, will you allow me the +honor of kissing your hand?" + +Marguerite extended her trembling hand. + +"What did she say to you?" whispered Henry, as he stooped to imprint a +kiss on her hand. + +"Not to go out. In the name of Heaven, do not you go out either!" + +This was like a flash; but by its light, swift as it was, Henry at once +detected a complete plot. + +"This is not all," added Marguerite; "here is a letter, which a country +gentleman brought." + +"Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Yes." + +"Thank you," he said, taking the letter and putting it under his +doublet; and, passing in front of his bewildered wife, he placed his +hand on the shoulder of the Florentine. + +"Well, Maître Réné!" he said, "and how go commercial affairs?" + +"Pretty well, monseigneur,--pretty well," replied the poisoner, with his +perfidious smile. + +"I should think so," said Henry, "with men who, like you, supply all the +crowned heads at home and abroad." + +"Except the King of Navarre," replied the Florentine, impudently. + +"_Ventre saint gris_, Maître Réné," replied the king, "you are right; +and yet my poor mother, who also bought of you, recommended you to me +with her dying breath. Come to me to-morrow, Maître Réné, or day after +to-morrow, and bring your best perfumes." + +"That would not be a bad notion," said Catharine, smiling; "for it is +said"-- + +"That I need some perfumery," interrupted Henry, laughing; "who told you +that, mother? Was it Margot?" + +"No, my son," replied Catharine, "it was Madame de Sauve." + +At this moment the Duchesse de Lorraine, who in spite of all her efforts +could no longer contain herself, burst into loud sobs. + +Henry did not even turn toward her. + +"Sister, what is the matter?" cried Marguerite, darting toward Claude. + +"Nothing," said Catharine, passing between the two young women, +"nothing; she has those nervous attacks, for which Mazille prescribes +aromatic preparations." + +And again, and with still more force than before, she pressed her eldest +daughter's arm; then, turning toward the youngest: + +"There, Margot," she said, "did you not hear me request you to retire to +your room? If that is not sufficient, I command you." + +"Excuse me, madame," replied Marguerite, trembling and pale; "I wish +your majesty good-night." + +"I hope your wishes may be heard. Good-night--good-night!" + +Marguerite withdrew, staggering, and in vain seeking to meet her +husband's eyes, but he did not even turn toward her. + +There was a moment's silence, during which Catharine remained with her +eyes fastened on the Duchess of Lorraine, who, without speaking, looked +at her mother with clasped hands. + +Henry's back was still turned, but he was watching the scene in a +mirror, while seeming to curl his mustache with a pomade which Réné had +just given to him. + +"And you, Henry," said Catharine, "are you still intending to go out?" + +"Yes, that's true," exclaimed the king. "Faith, I was forgetting that +the Duc d'Alençon and the Prince de Condé are waiting for me! These are +admirable perfumes; they quite overpower one, and destroy one's memory. +Good evening, madame." + +"Good evening! To-morrow you will perhaps bring me tidings of the +admiral." + +"Without fail--Well, Phoebe, what is it?" + +"Phoebe!" said the queen mother, impatiently. + +"Call her, madame," said the Béarnais, "for she will not allow me to go +out." + +The queen mother rose, took the little greyhound by the collar, and held +her while Henry left the apartment, with his features as calm and +smiling as if he did not feel in his heart that his life was in imminent +peril. + +Behind him the little dog, set free by Catharine de Médicis, rushed to +try and overtake him, but the door was closed, and Phoebe could only +put her long nose under the tapestry and give a long and mournful howl. + +"Now, Charlotte," said Catharine to Madame de Sauve, "go and find +Messieurs de Guise and Tavannes, who are in my oratory, and return with +them; then remain with the Duchess of Lorraine, who has the vapors." + + + + +CHAPTER VII. + +THE NIGHT OF THE 24TH OF AUGUST, 1572. + + +When La Mole and Coconnas had finished their supper--and it was meagre +enough, for the fowls of _La Belle Étoile_ had their pin feathers singed +only on the sign--Coconnas whirled his chair around on one leg, +stretched out his feet, leaned one elbow on the table, and drinking a +last glass of wine, said: + +"Do you mean to go to bed instantly, Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"_Ma foi!_ I am very much inclined, for it is possible that I may be +called up in the night." + +"And I, too," said Coconnas; "but it appears to me that, under the +circumstances, instead of going to bed and making those wait who are to +come to us, we should do better to call for cards and play a game. They +would then find us quite ready." + +"I would willingly accept your proposal, sir, but I have very little +money for play. I have scarce a hundred gold crowns in my valise, for my +whole treasure. I rely on that with which to make my fortune!" + +"A hundred gold crowns!" cried Coconnas, "and you complain? By Heaven! I +have but six!" + +"Why," replied La Mole, "I saw you draw from your pocket a purse which +appeared not only full, but I should say bloated." + +"Ah," said Coconnas, "that is to defray an old debt which I am compelled +to pay to an old friend of my father, whom I suspect to be, like +yourself, somewhat of a Huguenot. Yes, there are here a hundred rose +nobles," he added, slapping his pocket, "but these hundred rose nobles +belong to Maître Mercandon. My personal patrimony, as I tell you, is +limited to six crowns." + +"How, then, can you play?" + +"Why, it is because of that I wished to play. Besides, an idea occurs to +me." + +"What is it?" + +"We both came to Paris on the same errand." + +"Yes." + +"Each of us has a powerful protector." + +"Yes." + +"You rely on yours, as I rely on mine." + +"Yes." + +"Well, then, it occurred to me that we should play first for our money, +and afterwards for the first favor which came to us, either from the +court or from our mistress"-- + +"Really, a very ingenious idea," said La Mole, with a smile, "but I +confess I am not such a gamester as to risk my whole life on a card or a +turn of the dice; for the first favor which may come either to you or to +me will, in all probability, involve our whole life." + +"Well, let us drop out of account the first favor from the court and +play for our mistress's first favor." + +"I see only one objection to that," said La Mole. + +"What objection?" + +"I have no mistress!" + +"Nor I either. But I expect to have one soon. Thank God! we are not cut +out to want one long!" + +"Undoubtedly, as you say, you will have your wish, Monsieur de Coconnas, +but as I have not the same confidence in my love-star, I feel that it +would be robbery, I to pit my fortune against yours. But, if you will, +let us play until your six crowns be lost or doubled, and if lost, and +you desire to continue the game, you are a gentleman, and your word is +as good as gold." + +"Well and good!" cried Coconnas, "that's the talk! You are right, sir, a +gentleman's word is as good as gold, especially when he has credit at +court. Thus, believe me, I did not risk too much when I proposed to play +for the first favor we might receive." + +"Doubtless, and you might lose it, but I could not gain it; for, as I am +with the King of Navarre, I could not receive anything from the Duc de +Guise." + +"Ah, the heretic!" muttered the landlord as he was at work polishing up +his old helmet, "I got on the right scent, did I?" And he stopped his +work long enough to cross himself piously. + +"Well, then," continued Coconnas, shuffling the cards which the waiter +had just brought him, "you are of the"-- + +"Of the what?" + +"Of the new religion." + +"I?" + +"Yes, you." + +"Well, say that I am," said La Mole, with a smile, "have you anything +against us?" + +"Oh! thank God, no! It is all the same to me. I hate Huguenotry with all +my heart, but I do not hate the Huguenots; besides, they are in fashion +just now." + +"Yes," replied La Mole, smiling; "to wit, the shooting at the admiral +with an arquebuse; but supposing we have a game of arquebusades." + +"Anything you please," said Coconnas, "provided I get to playing, it is +all the same to me." + +"Well, let us play, then," said La Mole, picking up his cards and +arranging them in his hand. + +"Yes, play ahead and with all confidence, for even if I were to lose a +hundred crowns of gold against yours I shall have the wherewithal to pay +you to-morrow morning." + +"Then your fortune will come while you are asleep." + +"No; I am going to find it." + +"Where? Tell me and I'll go with you." + +"At the Louvre." + +"Are you going back there to-night?" + +"Yes; to-night I have a private audience with the great Duc de Guise." + +As soon as Coconnas began to speak about going to seek his fortune at +the Louvre, La Hurière stopped polishing his sallet and went and stood +behind La Mole's chair, so that Coconnas alone could see him, and made +signs to him, which the Piedmontese, absorbed in his game and the +conversation, did not notice. + +"Well, it is miraculous," remarked La Mole; "and you were right when you +said that we were born under the same star. I have also an appointment +at the Louvre to-night, but not with the Duc de Guise; mine is with the +King of Navarre." + +"Have you a pass-word?" + +"Yes." + +"A rallying sign?" + +"No." + +"Well, I have one, and my pass-word is"-- + +As the Piedmontese was saying these words, La Hurière made such an +expressive gesture that the indiscreet gentleman, who happened at that +instant to raise his head, paused petrified more by the action than by +the turn of the cards which had just caused him to lose three crowns. + +La Mole looked around, but saw only his landlord standing behind him +with folded arms and wearing on his head the sallet which he had seen +him polishing the moment before. + +"What is the matter, pray?" inquired La Mole of Coconnas. + +Coconnas looked at the landlord and at his companion without answering, +for he could make nothing out of Maître La Hurière's redoubled gestures. + +La Hurière saw that he must go to his aid: + +"It is only that I am very fond of cards myself," said he, speaking +rapidly, "and I came closer to see the trick which made you gain, and +the gentleman saw me with my war helmet on, and as I am only a poor +bourgeois, it surprised him." + +"You make a fine figure, indeed you do!" cried La Mole, with a burst of +laughter. + +"Oh, sir," replied La Hurière with admirably pretended good nature and a +shrug of the shoulders expressive of his inferiority, "we poor fellows +are not very valiant and our appearance is not elegant. It is all right +for you fine gentlemen to wear glittering helmets and carry keen +rapiers, and provided we mount guard strictly"-- + +"Aha!" said La Mole, taking his turn at shuffling the cards. "So you +mount guard, do you?" + +"_Eh, mon Dieu, oui, Monsieur le Comte!_ I am sergeant in a company of +citizen militia." + +After having said this while La Mole was engaged in dealing the cards, +La Hurière withdrew, putting his finger on his lips as a sign of +discretion for Coconnas, who was more amazed than ever. + +This signal for caution was doubtless the reason that he lost almost as +rapidly the second time as the first. + +"Well," observed La Mole, "this makes exactly your six crowns. Will you +have your revenge on your future fortune?" + +"Willingly," replied Coconnas. + +"But before you begin, did you not say you had an appointment with the +Duc de Guise?" + +Coconnas looked toward the kitchen, and saw the great eyes of La +Hurière, who was repeating his warning. + +"Yes," he replied, "but it is not yet time. But now let us talk a little +about yourself, Monsieur de la Mole." + +"We should do better, I think, by talking of the game, my dear Monsieur +de Coconnas; for unless I am very much mistaken, I am in a fair way of +gaining six more crowns." + +"By Heaven! that is true! I always heard that the Huguenots had good +luck at cards. Devil take me if I haven't a good mind to turn Huguenot!" + +La Hurière's eyes sparkled like two coals; but Coconnas, absorbed in his +game, did not notice them. "Do so, count, do so," said La Mole, "and +though the way in which the change came about is odd, you will be well +received among us." + +Coconnas scratched his ear. + +"If I were sure that your good luck came from that," he said, "I would; +for I really do not stickle so overwhelmingly for the mass, and as the +King does not think so much of it either"-- + +"Then it is such a beautiful religion," said La Mole; "so simple, so +pure"-- + +"And, moreover, it is in fashion," said Coconnas; "and, moreover, it +brings good luck at cards; for the devil take me if you do not hold all +the aces, and yet I have watched you closely, and you play very fairly; +you do not cheat; it must be the religion"-- + +"You owe me six crowns more," said La Mole, quietly. + +"Ah, how you tempt me!" said Coconnas; "and if I am not satisfied with +Monsieur de Guise to-night"-- + +"Well?" + +"Well, to-morrow I will ask you to present me to the King of Navarre +and, be assured, if once I become a Huguenot, I will out-Huguenot +Luther, Calvin, Melanchthon, and all the reformers on earth!" + +"Hush!" said La Mole, "you will get into a quarrel with our host." + +"Ah, that is true," said Coconnas, looking toward the kitchen; "but--no, +he is not listening; he is too much occupied at this moment." + +"What is he doing, pray?" inquired La Mole, who could not see him from +where he was. + +"He is talking with--devil take me! it is he!" + +"Who?" + +"Why, that night-bird with whom he was discoursing when we arrived. The +man in the yellow doublet and drab-colored cloak. By Heaven! how +earnestly he talks. Say, Maître La Hurière, are you engaged in +politics?" + +But this time Maître La Hurière's answer was a gesture so energetic and +imperious that in spite of his love for the picture card Coconnas got up +and went to him. + +"What is the matter with you?" asked La Mole. + +"You wish wine, sir?" said La Hurière, seizing Coconnas' hand eagerly. +"You shall have it. Grégoire, wine for these gentlemen!" + +Then he whispered in his ear: + +"Silence, if you value your life, silence! And get rid of your +companion." + +La Hurière was so pale, the sallow man so lugubrious, that Coconnas felt +a shiver run over him, and turning to La Mole said: + +"My dear sir, I must beg you to excuse me. I have lost fifty crowns in +the turn of a hand. I am in bad luck to-night, and I fear I may get into +difficulties." + +"Well, sir, as you please," replied La Mole; "besides, I shall not be +sorry to lie down for a time. Maître la Hurière!" + +"Monsieur le Comte?" + +"If any one comes for me from the King of Navarre, wake me; I shall be +dressed, and consequently ready." + +"So shall I," said Coconnas; "and that I may not keep his highness +waiting, I will prepare the sign. Maître la Hurière, some white paper +and scissors!" + +"Grégoire!" cried La Hurière, "white paper to write a letter on and +scissors to cut the envelope with." + +"Ah!" said the Piedmontese to himself. "Something extraordinary is going +on here!" + +"Good-night, Monsieur de Coconnas," said La Mole; "and you, landlord, be +so good as to light me to my room. Good luck, my friend!" and La Mole +disappeared up the winding staircase, followed by La Hurière. + +Then the mysterious man, taking Coconnas by the arm, said to him, +speaking very rapidly: + +"Sir, you have very nearly betrayed a secret on which depends the fate +of a kingdom. God saw fit to have you close your mouth in time. One word +more, and I should have brought you down with my arquebuse. Now we are +alone, fortunately; listen!" + +"But who are you that you address me with this tone of authority?" + +"Did you ever hear talk of the Sire de Maurevel?" + +"The assassin of the admiral?" + +"And of Captain de Mouy." + +"Yes." + +"Well, I am the Sire de Maurevel." + +"Oho!" said Coconnas. + +"Now listen to me!" + +"By Heaven! I assure you I will listen!" + +"Hush!" said Maurevel, putting his finger on his mouth. + +Coconnas listened. + +At that moment he heard the landlord close the door of a chamber, then +the door of a corridor, and bolt it. Then he rushed down the stairs to +join the two speakers. + +He offered a chair to Coconnas, a chair to Maurevel, and took one for +himself. + +"All is safe now, Monsieur de Maurevel," said he; "you may speak." + +It was striking eleven o'clock at Saint Germain l'Auxerrois. Maurevel +counted each of the hammer-strokes as they sounded clear and melancholy +through the night, and when the last echo had died away in space he +turned to Coconnas, who was greatly mystified at seeing the precautions +taken by the two men. "Sir," he asked, "are you a good Catholic?" + +"Why, I think I am," replied Coconnas. + +"Sir," continued Maurevel, "are you devoted to the King?" + +"Heart and soul! I even feel that you insult me, sir, in asking such a +question." + +"We will not quarrel over that; only you are going to follow us." + +"Whither?" + +"That is of little consequence--put yourself in our hands; your fortune, +and perhaps your life, is at stake." + +"I tell you, sir, that at midnight I have an appointment at the Louvre." + +"That is where we are going." + +"Monsieur de Guise is expecting me there." + +"And us also." + +"But I have a private pass-word," continued Coconnas, somewhat mortified +at sharing with the Sire de Maurevel and Maître La Hurière the honor of +his audience. + +"So have we." + +"But I have a sign of recognition." + +Maurevel smiled. + +Then he drew from beneath his doublet a handful of crosses in white +stuff, gave one to La Hurière, one to Coconnas, and took another for +himself. La Hurière fastened his to his helmet. Maurevel attached his to +the side of his hat. + +"Ah," said Coconnas, amazed, "the appointment and the rallying pass-word +were for every one?" + +"Yes, sir,--that is to say, for all good Catholics." + +"Then there is a festival at the Louvre--some royal banquet, is there +not?" said Coconnas; "and it is desired to exclude those hounds of +Huguenots,--good, capital, excellent! They have been showing off too +long." + +"Yes, there is to be a festival at the Louvre--a royal banquet; and the +Huguenots are invited; and moreover, they will be the heroes of the +festival, and will pay for the banquet, and if you will be one of us, we +will begin by going to invite their principal champion--their Gideon, as +they call him." + +"The admiral!" cried Coconnas. + +"Yes, the old Gaspard, whom I missed, like a fool, though I aimed at +him with the King's arquebuse." + +"And this, my gentleman, is why I was polishing my sallet, sharpening my +sword, and putting an edge on my knives," said La Hurière, in a harsh +voice consonant with war. + +At these words Coconnas shuddered and turned very pale, for he began to +understand. + +"What, really," he exclaimed, "this festival--this banquet is a--you are +going"-- + +"You have been a long time guessing, sir," said Maurevel, "and it is +easy to see that you are not so weary of these insolent heretics as we +are." + +"And you take on yourself," he said, "to go to the admiral's and to"-- + +Maurevel smiled, and drawing Coconnas to the window he said: + +"Look there!--do you see, in the small square at the end of the street, +behind the church, a troop drawn up noiselessly in the shadow?" + +"Yes." + +"The men forming that troop have, like Maître la Hurière, and myself, +and yourself, a cross in their hats." + +"Well?" + +"Well, these men are a company of Swiss, from the smaller cantons, +commanded by Toquenot,--you know the men from the smaller cantons are +the King's cronies." + +"Oho!" said Coconnas. + +"Now look at that troop of horse passing along the Quay--do you +recognize their leader?" + +"How can I recognize him?" asked Coconnas, with a shudder; "I reached +Paris only this evening." + +"Well, then, he is the one with whom you have a rendezvous at the Louvre +at midnight. See, he is going to wait for you!" + +"The Duc de Guise?" + +"Himself! His escorts are Marcel, the ex-provost of the tradesmen, and +Jean Choron, the present provost. These two are going to summon their +companies, and here, down this street comes the captain of the quarter. +See what he will do!" + +"He knocks at each door; but what is there on the doors at which he +knocks?" + +"A white cross, young man, such as that which we have in our hats. In +days gone by they let God bear the burden of distinguishing his own; +now we have grown more civilized and we save him the bother." + +"But at each house at which he knocks the door opens and from each house +armed citizens come out." + +"He will knock here in turn, and we shall in turn go out." + +"What," said Coconnas, "every one called out to go and kill one old +Huguenot? By Heaven! it is shameful! It is an affair of cut-throats, and +not of soldiers." + +"Young man," replied Maurevel, "if the old are objectionable to you, you +may choose young ones--you will find plenty for all tastes. If you +despise daggers, use your sword, for the Huguenots are not the men to +allow their throats to be cut without defending themselves, and you know +that Huguenots, young or old, are tough." + +"But are they all going to be killed, then?" cried Coconnas. + +"All!" + +"By the King's order?" + +"By order of the King and Monsieur de Guise." + +"And when?" + +"When you hear the bell of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois." + +"Oh! so that was why that amiable German attached to the Duc de +Guise--what is his name?" + +"Monsieur de Besme." + +"That is it. That is why Monsieur de Besme told me to hasten at the +first sound of the tocsin." + +"So then you have seen Monsieur de Besme?" + +"I have seen him and spoken to him." + +"Where?" + +"At the Louvre. He admitted me, gave me the pass-word, gave me"-- + +"Look there!" + +"By Heaven!--there he is himself." + +"Would you speak with him?" + +"Why, really, I should not object." + +Maurevel carefully opened the window; Besme was passing at the moment +with twenty soldiers. + +"_Guise and Lorraine!_" said Maurevel. + +Besme turned round, and perceiving that he himself was addressed, came +under the window. + +"Oh, is it you, Monsir de Maurefel?" + +"Yes, 'tis I; what are you looking for?" + +"I am looking for de hostelry of de _Belle Étoile_, to find a Monsir +Gogonnas." + +"Here I am, Monsieur de Besme," said the young man. + +"Goot, goot; are you ready?" + +"Yes--to do what?" + +"Vatefer Monsieur de Maurefel may dell you, for he is a goot Gatolic." + +"Do you hear?" inquired Maurevel. + +"Yes," replied Coconnas, "but, Monsieur de Besme, where are you going?" + +"I?" asked Monsieur de Besme, with a laugh. + +"Yes, you." + +"I am going to fire off a leedle wort at the admiral." + +"Fire off two, if need be," said Maurevel, "and this time, if he gets up +at the first, do not let him get up at the second." + +"Haf no vear, Monsir de Maurefel, haf no vear, und meanvile get dis +yoong mahn on de right drack." + +"Don't worry about me: the Coconnas are regular bloodhounds, and I am a +chip off the old block."[2] + +"Atieu." + +"Go on!" + +"Unt you?" + +"Begin the hunt; we shall be at the death." + +De Besme went on, and Maurevel closed the window. + +"Did you hear, young man?" said Maurevel; "if you have any private +enemy, even if he is not altogether a Huguenot, you can put him on your +list, and he will pass with the others." + +Coconnas, more bewildered than ever with what he saw and heard, looked +first at his landlord, who was assuming formidable attitudes, and then +at Maurevel, who quietly drew a paper from his pocket. + +"Here's my list," said he; "three hundred. Let each good Catholic do +this night one-tenth part of the business I shall do, and to-morrow +there will not remain one single heretic in the kingdom." + +"Hush!" said La Hurière. + +"What is it?" inquired Coconnas and Maurevel together. + +They heard the first pulsation from the bell in Saint Germain +l'Auxerrois. + +"The signal!" exclaimed Maurevel. "The time is set forward! I was told +it was appointed at midnight--so much the better. When it concerns the +interest of God and the King, it is better for clocks to be fast than +slow!" + +In reality they heard the church bell mournfully tolling. + +Then a shot was fired, and almost instantly the light of several torches +blazed up like flashes of lightning in the Rue de l'Arbre Sec. + +Coconnas passed his hand over his brow, which was damp with +perspiration. + +"It has begun!" cried Maurevel. "Now to work--away!" + +"One moment, one moment!" said the landlord. "Before we begin, let us +protect the camp, as we say in the army. I do not wish to have my wife +and children's throats cut while I am out. There is a Huguenot here." + +"Monsieur de la Mole!" said Coconnas, starting. + +"Yes, the heretic has thrown himself into the wolf's throat." + +"What!" said Coconnas, "would you attack your guest?" + +"I gave an extra edge to my rapier for his special benefit." + +"Oho!" said the Piedmontese, frowning. + +"I never yet killed anything but my rabbits, ducks, and chickens," +replied the worthy inn-keeper, "and I do not know very well how to go to +work to kill a man; well, I will practise on him, and if I am clumsy, no +one will be there to laugh at me." + +"By Heaven! it is hard," said Coconnas. "Monsieur de la Mole is my +companion; Monsieur de la Mole has supped with me; Monsieur de la Mole +has played with me"-- + +"Yes; but Monsieur de la Mole is a heretic," said Maurevel. "Monsieur de +la Mole is doomed; and if we do not kill him, others will." + +"Not to say," added the host, "that he has won fifty crowns from you." + +"True," said Coconnas; "but fairly, I am sure." + +"Fairly or not, you must pay them, while, if I kill him, you are quits." + +"Come, come!" cried Maurevel; "make haste, gentlemen, an arquebuse-shot, +a rapier-thrust, a blow with a mallet, a stroke with any weapon you +please; but get done with it if you wish to reach the admiral's in time +to help Monsieur de Guise as we promised." + +Coconnas sighed. + +"I'll make haste!" cried La Hurière, "wait for me." + +"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas, "he will put the poor fellow to great +pain, and, perhaps, rob him. I must be present to finish him, if +requisite, and to prevent any one from touching his money." + +And impelled by this happy thought, Coconnas followed La Hurière +upstairs, and soon overtook him, for according as the landlord went up, +doubtless as the effect of reflection, he slackened his pace. + +As he reached the door, Coconnas still following, many gunshots were +discharged in the street. Instantly La Mole was heard to leap out of bed +and the flooring creaked under his feet. + +"_Diable!_" muttered La Hurière, somewhat disconcerted; "that has +awakened him, I think." + +"It looks like it," observed Coconnas. + +"And he will defend himself." + +"He is capable of it. Suppose, now, Maître la Hurière, he were to kill +you; that would be droll!" + +"Hum, hum!" responded the landlord, but knowing himself to be armed with +a good arquebuse, he took courage and dashed the door in with a vigorous +kick. + +La Mole, without his hat, but dressed, was entrenched behind his bed, +his sword between his teeth, and his pistols in his hands. + +"Oho!" said Coconnas, his nostrils expanding as if he had been a wild +beast smelling blood, "this grows interesting, Maître la Hurière. +Forward!" + +"Ah, you would assassinate me, it seems!" cried La Mole, with glaring +eyes; "and it is you, wretch!" + +Maître la Hurière's reply to this was to take aim at the young man with +his arquebuse; but La Mole was on his guard, and as he fired, fell on +his knees, and the ball flew over his head. + +"Help!" cried La Mole; "help, Monsieur de Coconnas!" + +"Help, Monsieur de Maurevel!--help!" cried La Hurière. + +"_Ma foi!_ Monsieur de la Mole," replied Coconnas, "all I can do in this +affair is not to join the attack against you. It seems all the Huguenots +are to be put to death to-night, in the King's name. Get out of it as +well as you can." + +"Ah, traitors! assassins!--is it so? Well, then, take this!" and La +Mole, aiming in his turn, fired one of his pistols. La Hurière, who had +kept his eye on him, dodged to one side; but Coconnas, not anticipating +such a reply, stayed where he was, and the bullet grazed his shoulder. + +"By Heaven!" he exclaimed, grinding his teeth; "I have it. Well, then, +let it be we two, since you will have it so!" + +And drawing his rapier, he rushed on La Mole. + +Had he been alone La Mole would, doubtless, have awaited his attack; but +Coconnas had La Hurière to aid him, who was reloading his gun, and +Maurevel, who, responding to the innkeeper's invitation, was rushing +up-stairs four steps at a time. + +La Mole, therefore, dashed into a small closet, which he bolted inside. + +"Ah, coward!" cried Coconnas, furious, and striking at the door with the +pommel of his sword; "wait! wait! and I will make as many holes in your +body as you have gained crowns of me to-night. I came up to prevent you +from suffering! Oh, I came up to prevent you from being robbed and you +pay me back by putting a bullet into my shoulder! Wait for me, coward, +wait!" + +While this was going on, Maître la Hurière came up and with one blow +with the butt-end of his arquebuse smashed in the door. + +Coconnas darted into the closet, but only bare walls met him. The closet +was empty and the window was open. + +"He must have jumped out," said the landlord, "and as we are on the +fourth story, he is surely dead." + +"Or he has escaped by the roof of the next house," said Coconnas, +putting his leg on the window-sill and preparing to follow him over this +narrow and slippery route; but Maurevel and La Hurière seized him and +drew him back into the room. + +"Are you mad?" they both exclaimed at once; "you will kill yourself!" + +"Bah!" said Coconnas, "I am a mountaineer, and used to climbing +glaciers; besides, when a man has once offended me, I would go up to +heaven or descend to hell with him, by whatever route he pleases. Let me +do as I wish." + +"Well," said Maurevel, "he is either dead or a long way off by this +time. Come with us; and if he escape you, you will find a thousand +others to take his place." + +"You are right," cried Coconnas. "Death to the Huguenots! I want +revenge, and the sooner the better." + +And the three rushed down the staircase, like an avalanche. + +"To the admiral's!" shouted Maurevel. + +"To the admiral's!" echoed La Hurière. + +"To the admiral's, then, if it must be so!" cried Coconnas in his turn. + +And all three, leaving the _Belle Étoile_ in charge of Grégoire and the +other waiters, hastened toward the admiral's hôtel in the Rue de +Béthizy; a bright light and the report of fire-arms guided them in that +direction. + +"Ah, who comes here?" cried Coconnas. "A man without his doublet or +scarf!" + +"It is some one escaping," said Maurevel. + +"Fire! fire!" said Coconnas; "you who have arquebuses." + +"Faith, not I," replied Maurevel. "I keep my powder for better game." + +"You, then, La Hurière!" + +"Wait, wait!" said the innkeeper, taking aim. + +"Oh, yes, wait," cried Coconnas, "and meantime he will escape." + +And he rushed after the unhappy wretch, whom he soon overtook, as he was +wounded; but at the moment when, in order that he might not strike him +behind, he exclaimed, "Turn, will you! turn!" the report of an arquebuse +was heard, a bullet whistled by Coconnas's ears, and the fugitive rolled +over, like a hare in its swiftest flight struck by the shot of the +sportsman. + +A cry of triumph was heard behind Coconnas. The Piedmontese turned round +and saw La Hurière brandishing his weapon. + +"Ah," he exclaimed, "I have handselled this time at any rate." + +"And only just missed making a hole quite through me." + +"Be on your guard!--be on your guard!" cried La Hurière. + +Coconnas sprung back. The wounded man had risen on his knee, and, eager +for revenge, was just on the point of stabbing him with his poniard, +when the landlord's warning put the Piedmontese on his guard. + +"Ah, viper!" shouted Coconnas; and rushing at the wounded man, he thrust +his sword through him three times up to the hilt. + +"And now," cried he, leaving the Huguenot in the agonies of death, "to +the admiral's!--to the admiral's!" + +"Aha! my gentlemen," said Maurevel, "it seems to work." + +"Faith! yes," replied Coconnas. "I do not know if it is the smell of +gunpowder makes me drunk, or the sight of blood excites me, but by +Heaven! I am thirsty for slaughter. It is like a battue of men. I have +as yet only had battues of bears and wolves, and on my honor, a battue +of men seems more amusing." + +And the three went on their way. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. + +THE MASSACRE. + + +The hôtel occupied by the admiral, as we have said, was situated in the +Rue de Béthizy. It was a great mansion at the rear of a court and had +two wings giving on the street. A wall furnished with a large gate and +two small grilled doors stretched from wing to wing. + +When our three Guisards reached the end of the Rue de Béthizy, which is +a continuation of the Rue des Fossés Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, they saw +the hôtel surrounded by Swiss, by soldiers, and by armed citizens; every +one had in his right hand either a sword or a pike or an arquebuse, and +some held in their left hands torches, shedding over the scene a fitful +and melancholy glare which, according as the throng moved, shifted along +the street, climbed the walls; or spread over that living sea where +every weapon cast its answering flash. + +All around the hôtel and in the Rues Tirechappe, Étienne, and Bertin +Poirée the terrible work was proceeding. Long shouts were heard, there +was an incessant rattle of musketry, and from time to time some wretch, +half naked, pale, and drenched in blood, leaped like a hunted stag into +the circle of lugubrious light where a host of fiends seemed to be at +work. + +In an instant Coconnas, Maurevel, and La Hurière, accredited by their +white crosses, and received with cries of welcome, were in the thickest +of this struggling, panting mob. Doubtless they would not have been able +to advance had not some of the throng recognized Maurevel and made way +for him. Coconnas and La Hurière followed him closely and the three +therefore contrived to get into the court-yard. + +In the centre of this court-yard, the three doors of which had been +burst open, a man, around whom the assassins formed a respectful circle, +stood leaning on his drawn rapier, and eagerly looking up at a balcony +about fifteen feet above him, and extending in front of the principal +window of the hôtel. + +This man stamped impatiently on the ground, and from time to time +questioned those that were nearest to him. + +"Nothing yet!" murmured he. "No one!--he must have been warned and has +escaped. What do you think, Du Gast?" + +"Impossible, monseigneur." + +"Why? Did you not tell me that just before we arrived a man, +bare-headed, a drawn sword in his hand, came running, as if pursued, +knocked at the door, and was admitted?" + +"Yes, monseigneur; but M. de Besme came up immediately, the gates were +shattered, and the hôtel was surrounded." + +"The man went in sure enough, but he has not gone out." + +"Why," said Coconnas to La Hurière, "if my eyes do not deceive me, I +see Monsieur de Guise." + +"You do see him, sir. Yes; the great Henry de Guise is come in person to +watch for the admiral and serve him as he served the duke's father. +Every one has his day, and it is our turn now." + +"Holà, Besme, holà!" cried the duke, in his powerful voice, "have you +not finished yet?" + +And he struck his sword so forcibly against the stones that sparks flew +out. + +At this instant shouts were heard in the hôtel--then several shots--then +a great shuffling of feet and a clashing of swords, and then all was +again silent. + +The duke was about to rush into the house. + +"Monseigneur, monseigneur!" said Du Gast, detaining him, "your dignity +commands you to wait here." + +"You are right, Du Gast. I must stay here; but I am dying with +impatience and anxiety. If he were to escape me!" + +Suddenly the noise of feet came nearer--the windows of the first floor +were lighted up with what seemed the reflection of a conflagration. + +The window, to which the duke's eyes had been so many times lifted, +opened, or, rather, was shattered to pieces, and a man, his pale face +and white neck stained with blood, appeared on the balcony. + +"Ah! at last, Besme!" cried the duke; "speak! speak!" + +"Louk! louk!" replied the German coldly, and stooping down he lifted up +something which seemed like a heavy body. + +"But where are the others?" asked the duke, impatiently, "where are the +others?" + +"De udders are vinishing de udders!" + +"And what have you done?" + +"Vait! You shall peholt! Shtant pack a liddle." + +The duke fell back a step. + +At that instant the object Besme was dragging toward him with such +effort became visible. + +It was the body of an old man. + +He lifted it above the balcony, held it suspended an instant, and then +flung it down at his master's feet. + +The heavy thud, the billows of blood spurting from the body and +spattering the pavement all around, filled even the duke himself with +horror; but this feeling lasted only an instant, and curiosity caused +every one to crowd forward, so that the glare of the torches flickered +on the victim's body. + +They could see a white beard, a venerable face, and limbs contracted by +death. + +"The admiral!" cried twenty voices, as instantaneously hushed. + +"Yes, the admiral, here he is!" said the duke, approaching the corpse, +and contemplating it with silent ecstasy. + +"The admiral! the admiral!" repeated the witnesses of this terrible +scene, crowding together and timidly approaching the old man, majestic +even in death. + +"Ah, at last, Gaspard!" said the Duke de Guise, triumphantly. "Murderer +of my father! thus do I avenge him!" + +And the duke dared to plant his foot on the breast of the Protestant +hero. + +But instantly the dying warrior opened his eyes, his bleeding and +mutilated hand was clinched for the last time, and the admiral, though +without stirring, said to the duke in a sepulchral voice: + +"Henry de Guise, some day the assassin's foot shall be felt on your +breast. I did not kill your father. A curse upon you." + +The duke, pale, and trembling in spite of himself, felt a cold shudder +come over him. He passed his hand across his brow, as if to dispel the +fearful vision; when he dared again to glance at the admiral his eyes +were closed, his hand unclinched, and a stream of black blood was +flowing from the mouth which had just pronounced such terrible words. + +The duke raised his sword with a gesture of desperate resolution. + +"Vell, monsir, are you gondent?" + +"Yes, my worthy friend, yes, for you have revenged"-- + +"The Dugue François, haf I not?" + +"Our religion," replied Henry, in a solemn voice. "And now," he went on, +addressing the Swiss, the soldiers, and citizens who filled the court +and street, "to work, my friends, to work!" + +"Good evening, M. de Besme," said Coconnas with a sort of admiration, +approaching the German, who still stood on the balcony, calmly wiping +his sword. + +"So you settled him, did you?" cried La Hurière; "how did you manage +it?" + +"Oh, zimbly, zimbly; he haf heerd de gommotion, he haf oben de door unt +I joost brick my rabier troo his potty. But I tink dey am gilling +Téligny now. I hear his gries!" + +At that instant, in fact, several shrieks, apparently uttered by a woman +in distress, were heard; the windows of the long gallery which formed a +wing of the hotel were lighted up with a red glare; two men were seen +fleeing, pursued by a long line of assassins. An arquebuse-shot killed +one; the other, finding an open window directly in his way, without +stopping to look at the distance from the ground, sprang boldly into the +courtyard below, heeding not the enemies who awaited him there. + +"Kill! kill!" cried the assassins, seeing their prey about to escape +them. + +The fugitive picked up his sword, which as he stumbled had fallen from +his hand, dashed headlong through the soldiers, upset three or four, ran +one through the body, and amid the pistol-shots and curses of the +soldiers, rendered furious because they had missed him, darted like +lightning in front of Coconnas, who was waiting for him at the gate with +his poniard in his hand. + +"Touched!" cried the Piedmontese, piercing his arm with his keen, +delicate blade. + +"Coward!" replied the fugitive, striking his enemy in the face with the +flat of his weapon, for want of room to thrust at him with its point. + +"A thousand devils!" cried Coconnas; "it's Monsieur de la Mole!" + +"Monsieur de la Mole!" reëchoed La Hurière and Maurevel. + +"He is the one who warned the admiral!" cried several soldiers. + +"Kill him--kill him!" was shouted on all sides. + +Coconnas, La Hurière, and a dozen soldiers rushed in pursuit of La Mole, +who, covered with blood, and having attained that state of exaltation +which is the last resource of human strength, dashed through the +streets, with no other guide than instinct. Behind him, the footsteps +and shouts of his enemies spurred him on and seemed to give him wings. +Occasionally a bullet would whistle by his ears and suddenly add new +swiftness to his flight just as it was beginning to slacken. He no +longer breathed; it was not breath, but a dull rattle, a hoarse panting, +that came from his chest. Perspiration and blood wet his locks and ran +together down his face. + +His doublet soon became too oppressive for the beating of his heart and +he tore it off. Soon his sword became too heavy for his hand and he +flung it far away. Sometimes it seemed to him that the footsteps of his +pursuers were farther off and that he was about to escape them; but in +response to their shouts, other murderers who were along his path and +nearer to him left off their bloody occupations and started in pursuit +of him. + +Suddenly he caught sight of the river flowing silently at his left; it +seemed to him that he should feel, like a stag at bay, an ineffable +pleasure in plunging into it, and only the supreme power of reason could +restrain him. + +On his right was the Louvre, dark and motionless, but full of strange +and ominous sounds; soldiers on the drawbridge came and went, and +helmets and cuirasses glittered in the moonlight. La Mole thought of the +King of Navarre, as he had before thought of Coligny; they were his only +protectors. He collected all his strength, and inwardly vowing to abjure +his faith should he escape the massacre, by making a detour of a score +or two of yards he misled the mob pursuing him, darted straight for the +Louvre, leaped upon the drawbridge among the soldiers, received another +poniard stab which grazed his side, and despite the cries of +"Kill--kill!" which resounded on all sides, and the opposing weapons of +the sentinels, darted like an arrow through the court, into the +vestibule, mounted the staircase, then up two stories higher, recognized +a door, and leaning against it, struck it violently with his hands and +feet. + +"Who is there?" asked a woman's voice. + +"Oh, my God!" murmured La Mole; "they are coming, I hear them; 'tis +I--'tis I!" + +"Who are you?" said the voice. + +La Mole recollected the pass-word. + +"Navarre--Navarre!" cried he. + +The door instantly opened. La Mole, without thanking, without even +seeing Gillonne, dashed into the vestibule, then along a corridor, +through two or three chambers, until at last he entered a room lighted +by a lamp suspended from the ceiling. + +Behind curtains of velvet with gold fleurs-de-lis, in a bed of carved +oak, a lady, half naked, leaning on her arm, stared at him with eyes +wide open with terror. + +La Mole sprang toward her. + +"Madame," cried he, "they are killing, they are butchering my +brothers--they seek to kill me, to butcher me also! Ah! you are the +queen--save me!" + +And he threw himself at her feet, leaving on the carpet a large track of +blood. + +At the sight of a man pale, exhausted, and bleeding at her feet, the +Queen of Navarre started up in terror, hid her face in her hands, and +called for help. + +"Madame," cried La Mole, endeavoring to rise, "in the name of Heaven do +not call, for if you are heard I am lost! Assassins are in my +track--they are rushing up the stairs behind me. I hear them--there they +are! there they are!" + +"Help!" cried the queen, beside herself, "help!" + +"Ah!" said La Mole, despairingly, "you have killed me. To die by so +sweet a voice, so fair a hand! I did not think it possible." + +At the same time the door flew open, and a troop of men, their faces +covered with blood and blackened with powder, their swords drawn, and +their pikes and arquebuses levelled, rushed into the apartment. + +Coconnas was at their head--his red hair bristling, his pale blue eyes +extraordinarily dilated, his cheek cut open by La Mole's sword, which +had ploughed its bloody furrow there. Thus disfigured, the Piedmontese +was terrible to behold. + +"By Heaven!" he cried, "there he is! there he is! Ah! this time we have +him at last!" + +La Mole looked round him for a weapon, but in vain; he glanced at the +queen, and saw the deepest pity depicted in her face; then he felt that +she alone could save him; he threw his arms round her. + +Coconnas advanced, and with the point of his long rapier again wounded +his enemy's shoulder, and the crimson drops of warm blood stained the +white and perfumed sheets of Marguerite's couch. + +Marguerite saw the blood flow; she felt the shudder that ran through La +Mole's frame; she threw herself with him into the recess between the bed +and the wall. It was time, for La Mole, whose strength was exhausted, +was incapable of flight or resistance; he leaned his pallid head on +Marguerite's shoulder, and his hand convulsively seized and tore the +thin embroidered cambric which enveloped Marguerite's body in a billow +of gauze. + +"Oh, madame," murmured he, in a dying voice, "save me." + +He could say no more. A mist like the darkness of death came over his +eyes, his head sunk back, his arms fell at his side, his legs gave way, +and he sank on the floor, bathed in his blood, and dragging the queen +with him. + +At this moment Coconnas, excited by the shouts, intoxicated by the sight +of blood, and exasperated by the long chase, advanced toward the recess; +in another instant his sword would have pierced La Mole's heart, and +perhaps Marguerite's also. + +At the sight of the bare steel, and even more moved at such brutal +insolence, the daughter of kings drew herself up to her full stature and +uttered such a shriek of terror, indignation, and rage that the +Piedmontese stood petrified by an unknown feeling; and yet undoubtedly +had this scene been prolonged and no other actor taken part in it, his +feeling would have vanished like a morning snow under an April sun. But +suddenly a secret door in the wall opened, and a pale young man of +sixteen or seventeen, dressed in black and with his hair in disorder, +rushed in. + +"Wait, sister!" he cried; "here I am, here I am!" + +"François! François!" cried Marguerite; "help! help!" + +"The Duc d'Alençon!" murmured La Hurière, grounding his arquebuse. + +"By Heaven! a son of France!" growled Coconnas, drawing back. + +The duke glanced round him. He saw Marguerite, dishevelled, more lovely +than ever, leaning against the wall, surrounded by men, fury in their +eyes, sweat on their foreheads, and foam in their mouths. + +"Wretches!" cried he. + +"Save me, brother!" shrieked Marguerite. "They are going to kill me!" + +A flame flashed across the duke's pallid face. + +He was unarmed, but sustained, no doubt, by the consciousness of his +rank, he advanced with clinched fists toward Coconnas and his +companions, who retreated, terrified at the lightning darting from his +eyes. + +"Ha! and will you murder a son of France, too?" cried the duke. Then, as +they recoiled,--"Ho, there! captain of the guard! Hang every one of +these ruffians!" + +More alarmed at the sight of this weaponless young man than he would +have been at the aspect of a regiment of reiters or lansquenets, +Coconnas had already reached the door. La Hurière was leaping downstairs +like a deer, and the soldiers were jostling and pushing one another in +the vestibule in their endeavors to escape, finding the door far too +small for their great desire to be outside it. Meantime Marguerite had +instinctively thrown the damask coverlid of her bed over La Mole, and +withdrawn from him. + +When the last murderer had departed the Duc d'Alençon came back: + +"Sister," he cried, seeing Marguerite all dabbled with blood, "are you +wounded?" And he sprang toward his sister with a solicitude which would +have done credit to his affection if he had not been charged with +harboring too deep an affection for a brother to entertain for a sister. + +"No," said she; "I think not, or, if so, very slightly." + +"But this blood," said the duke, running his trembling hands all over +Marguerite's body. "Where does it come from?" + +"I know not," replied she; "one of those wretches laid his hand on me, +and perhaps he was wounded." + +"What!" cried the duke, "he dared to touch my sister? Oh, if you had +only pointed him out to me, if you had told me which one it was, if I +knew where to find him"-- + +"Hush!" said Marguerite. + +"And why?" asked François. + +"Because if you were seen at this time of night in my room"-- + +"Can't a brother visit his sister, Marguerite?" + +The queen gave the duke a look so keen and yet so threatening that the +young man drew back. + +"Yes, yes, Marguerite," said he, "you are right, I will go to my room; +but you cannot remain alone this dreadful night. Shall I call Gillonne?" + +"No, no! leave me, François--leave me. Go by the way you came!" + +The young prince obeyed; and hardly had he disappeared when Marguerite, +hearing a sigh from behind her bed, hurriedly bolted the door of the +secret passage, and then hastening to the other entrance closed it in +the same way, just as a troop of archers and soldiers like a hurricane +dashed by in hot chase of some other Huguenot residents in the Louvre. + +After glancing round to assure herself that she was really alone, she +again went to the "ruelle" of her bed, lifted the damask covering which +had concealed La Mole from the Duc d'Alençon, and drawing the apparently +lifeless body, by great exertion, into the middle of the room, and +finding that the victim still breathed, sat down, placed his head on her +knees, and sprinkled his face with water. + +Then as the water cleared away the mask of blood, dust, and gunpowder +which had covered his face, Marguerite recognized the handsome cavalier +who, full of life and hope, had three or four hours before come to ask +her to look out for his interests with her protection and that of the +King of Navarre; and had gone away, dazzled by her beauty, leaving her +also impressed by his. + +Marguerite uttered a cry of terror, for now what she felt for the +wounded man was more than mere pity--it was interest. He was no longer a +mere stranger: he was almost an acquaintance. By her care La Mole's fine +features soon reappeared, free from stain, but pale and distorted by +pain. A shudder ran through her whole frame as she tremblingly placed +her hand on his heart. It was still beating. Then she took a +smelling-bottle from the table, and applied it to his nostrils. + +La Mole opened his eyes. + +"Oh! _mon Dieu!_" murmured he; "where am I?" + +"Saved!" said Marguerite. "Reassure yourself--you are saved." + +La Mole turned his eyes on the queen, gazed earnestly for a moment, and +murmured, + +"Oh, how beautiful you are!" + +Then as if the vision were too much for him, he closed his lids and drew +a sigh. + +Marguerite started. He had become still paler than before, if that were +possible, and for an instant that sigh was his last. + +"Oh, my God! my God!" she ejaculated, "have pity on him!" + +At this moment a violent knocking was heard at the door. Marguerite half +raised herself, still supporting La Mole. + +"Who is there?" she cried. + +"Madame, it is I--it is I," replied a woman's voice, "the Duchesse de +Nevers." + +"Henriette!" cried Marguerite. "There is no danger; it is a friend of +mine! Do you hear, sir?" + +La Mole with some effort got up on one knee. + +"Try to support yourself while I go and open the door," said the queen. + +La Mole rested his hand on the floor and succeeded in holding himself +upright. + +Marguerite took one step toward the door, but suddenly stopped, +shivering with terror. + +"Ah, you are not alone!" she said, hearing the clash of arms outside. + +"No, I have twelve guards which my brother-in-law, Monsieur de Guise, +assigned me." + +"Monsieur de Guise!" murmured La Mole. "The assassin--the assassin!" + +"Silence!" said Marguerite. "Not a word!" + +And she looked round to see where she could conceal the wounded man. + +"A sword! a dagger!" muttered La Mole. + +"To defend yourself--useless! Did you not hear? There are twelve of +them, and you are alone." + +"Not to defend myself, but that I may not fall alive into their hands." + +"No, no!" said Marguerite. "No, I will save you. Ah! this cabinet! Come! +come." + +La Mole made an effort, and, supported by Marguerite, dragged himself to +the cabinet. Marguerite locked the door upon him, and hid the key in her +alms-purse. + +"Not a cry, not a groan, not a sigh," whispered she, through the +panelling, "and you are saved." + +Then hastily throwing a night-robe over her shoulders, she opened the +door for her friend, who tenderly embraced her. + +"Ah!" cried Madame Nevers, "then nothing has happened to you, madame!" + +"No, nothing at all," replied Marguerite, wrapping the mantle still more +closely round her to conceal the spots of blood on her peignoir. + +"'Tis well. However, as Monsieur de Guise has given me twelve of his +guards to escort me to his hôtel, and as I do not need such a large +company, I am going to leave six with your majesty. Six of the duke's +guards are worth a regiment of the King's to-night." + +Marguerite dared not refuse; she placed the soldiers in the corridor, +and embraced the duchess, who then returned to the Hôtel de Guise, where +she resided in her husband's absence. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. + +THE MURDERERS. + + +Coconnas had not fled, he had retreated; La Hurière had not fled, he had +flown. The one had disappeared like a tiger, the other like a wolf. + +The consequence was that La Hurière had already reached the Place Saint +Germain l'Auxerrois when Coconnas was only just leaving the Louvre. + +La Hurière, finding himself alone with his arquebuse, while around him +men were running, bullets were whistling, and bodies were falling from +windows,--some whole, others dismembered,--began to be afraid and was +prudently thinking of returning to his tavern, but as he turned into the +Rue de l'Arbre Sec from the Rue d'Averon he fell in with a troop of +Swiss and light cavalry: it was the one commanded by Maurevel. + +"Well," cried Maurevel, who had christened himself with the nickname of +King's Killer, "have you finished so soon? Are you going back to your +tavern, worthy landlord? And what the devil have you done with our +Piedmontese gentleman? No misfortune has happened to him? That would be +a shame, for he started out well." + +"No, I think not," replied La Hurière; "I hope he will rejoin us!" + +"Where have you been?" + +"At the Louvre, and I must say we were very rudely treated there." + +"By whom?" + +"Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon. Isn't he interested in this affair?" + +"Monseigneur le Duc d'Alençon is not interested in anything which does +not concern himself personally. Propose to treat his two older brothers +as Huguenots and he would be in it--provided only that the work should +be done without compromising him. But won't you go with these worthy +fellows, Maître La Hurière?" + +"And where are they going?" + +"Oh, _mon Dieu_! Rue Montorguen; there is a Huguenot minister there whom +I know; he has a wife and six children. These heretics are enormous +breeders; it will be interesting." + +"And where are you going?" + +"Oh, I have a little private business." + +"Say, there! don't go off without me," said a voice which made Maurevel +start, "you know all the good places and I want to have my share." + +"Ah! it is our Piedmontese," said Maurevel. + +"Yes, it is Monsieur de Coconnas," said La Hurière; "I thought you were +following me." + +"Hang it! you made off too swiftly for that; and besides I turned a +little to one side so as to fling into the river a frightful child who +was screaming, 'Down with the Papists! Long live the admiral!' +Unfortunately, I believe the little rascal knew how to swim. These +miserable heretics must be flung into the water like cats before their +eyes are opened if they are to be drowned at all." + +"Ah! you say you are just from the Louvre; so your Huguenot took refuge +there, did he?" asked Maurevel. + +"_Mon Dieu!_ yes." + +"I gave him a pistol-shot at the moment when he was picking up his +sword in the admiral's court-yard, but I somehow or other missed him." + +"Well, I did not miss him," added Coconnas; "I gave him such a thrust in +the back that my sword was wet five inches up the blade. Besides, I saw +him fall into the arms of Madame Marguerite, a pretty woman, by Heaven! +yet I confess I should not be sorry to hear he was really dead; the +vagabond is infernally spiteful, and capable of bearing me a grudge all +his life. But didn't you say you were bound somewhere?" + +"Why, do you mean to go with me?" + +"I do not like standing still, by Heaven! I have killed only three or +four as yet, and when I get cold my shoulder pains me. Forward! +forward!" + +"Captain," said Maurevel to the commander of the troop, "give me three +men, and go and despatch your parson with the rest." + +Three Swiss stepped forward and joined Maurevel. Nevertheless, the two +companies proceeded side by side till they reached the top of the Rue +Tirechappe; there the light horse and the Swiss took the Rue de la +Tonnellerie, while Maurevel, Coconnas, La Hurière, and his three men +were proceeding down the Rue Trousse Vache and entering the Rue Sainte +Avoye. "Where the devil are you taking us?" asked Coconnas, who was +beginning to be bored by this long march from which he could see no +results. + +"I am taking you on an expedition at once brilliant and useful. Next to +the admiral, next to Téligny, next to the Huguenot princes, I could +offer you nothing better. So have patience, our business calls us to the +Rue du Chaume, and we shall be there in a second." + +"Tell me," said Coconnas, "is not the Rue du Chaume near the Temple?" + +"Yes, why?" + +"Because an old creditor of our family lives there, one Lambert +Mercandon, to whom my father wished me to hand over a hundred rose +nobles I have in my pocket for that purpose." + +"Well," replied Maurevel, "this is a good opportunity for paying it. +This is the day for settling old accounts. Is your Mercandon a +Huguenot?" + +"Oho, I understand!" said Coconnas; "he must be"-- + +"Hush! here we are." + +"What is that large hôtel, with its entrance in the street?" + +"The Hôtel de Guise." + +"Truly," returned Coconnas, "I should not have failed to come here, as I +am under the patronage of the great Henry. But, by Heaven! all is so +very quiet in this quarter, we scarcely hear any firing, and we might +fancy ourselves in the country. The devil fetch me but every one is +asleep!" + +And indeed the Hôtel de Guise seemed as quiet as in ordinary times. All +the windows were closed, and a solitary light was burning behind the +blind of the principal window over the entrance which had attracted +Coconnas's attention as soon as they entered the street. + +Just beyond the Hôtel de Guise, in other words, at the corner of the Rue +du Petit Chantier and the Rue des Quatre Fils, Maurevel halted. + +"Here is the house of the man we want," said he. + +"Of the man you want--that is to say"--observed La Hurière. + +"Since you are with me we want him." + +"What! that house which seems so sound asleep"-- + +"Exactly! La Hurière, now go and make practical use of the plausible +face which heaven, by some blunder, gave you, and knock at that house. +Hand your arquebuse to M. de Coconnas, who has been ogling it this last +half hour. If you are admitted, you must ask to speak to Seigneur de +Mouy." + +"Aha!" exclaimed Coconnas, "now I understand--you also have a creditor +in the quarter of the Temple, it would seem." + +"Exactly so!" responded Maurevel. "You will go up to him pretending to +be a Huguenot, and inform De Mouy of all that has taken place; he is +brave, and will come down." + +"And once down?" asked La Hurière. + +"Once down, I will beg of him to cross swords with me." + +"On my soul, 'tis a fine gentleman's," said Coconnas, "and I propose to +do exactly the same thing with Lambert Mercandon; and if he is too old +to respond, I will try it with one of his sons or nephews." + +La Hurière, without making any reply, went and knocked at the door, and +the sounds echoing in the silence of the night caused the doors of the +Hôtel de Guise to open, and several heads to make their appearance from +out them; it was evident that the hôtel was quiet after the manner of +citadels, that is to say, because it was filled with soldiers. + +The heads were almost instantly withdrawn, as doubtless an inkling of +the matter in hand was divined. + +"Does your Monsieur de Mouy live here?" inquired Coconnas, pointing to +the house at which La Hurière was still knocking. + +"No, but his mistress does." + +"By Heaven! how gallant you are, to give him an occasion to draw sword +in the presence of his lady-love! We shall be the judges of the field. +However, I should like very well to fight myself--my shoulder burns." + +"And your face," added Maurevel, "is considerably damaged." + +Coconnas uttered a kind of growl. + +"By Heaven!" he said, "I hope he is dead; if I thought not, I would +return to the Louvre and finish him." + +La Hurière still kept knocking. + +Soon the window on the first floor opened, and a man appeared in the +balcony, in a nightcap and drawers, and unarmed. + +"Who's there?" cried he. + +Maurevel made a sign to the Swiss, who retreated into a corner, whilst +Coconnas stood close against the wall. + +"Ah! Monsieur de Mouy!" said the innkeeper, in his blandest tones, "is +that you?" + +"Yes; what then?" + +"It is he!" said Maurevel, with a thrill of joy. + +"Why, sir," continued La Hurière, "do you not know what is going on? +They are murdering the admiral, and massacring all of our religion. +Hasten to their assistance; come!" + +"Ah!" exclaimed De Mouy, "I feared something was plotted for this night. +I ought not to have deserted my worthy comrades. I will come, my +friend,--wait for me." + +And without closing the window, through which a frightened woman could +be heard uttering lamentations and tender entreaties, Monsieur de Mouy +got his doublet, his mantle, and his weapons. + +"He is coming down! He is coming down!" muttered Maurevel, pale with +joy. "Attention, the rest of you!" he whispered to the Swiss. + +Then taking the arquebuse from Coconnas he blew on the tinder to make +sure that it was still alight. + +"Here, La Hurière," he added, addressing the innkeeper, who had rejoined +the main body of the company, "here, take your arquebuse!" + +"By Heaven!" exclaimed Coconnas, "the moon is coming out of the clouds +to witness this beautiful fight. I would give a great deal if Lambert +Mercandon were here, to serve as Monsieur de Mouy's second." + +"Wait, wait!" said Maurevel; "Monsieur de Mouy alone is equal to a dozen +men, and it is likely that we six shall have enough to do to despatch +him. Forward, my men!" continued Maurevel, making a sign to the Swiss to +stand by the door, in order to strike De Mouy as he came forth. + +"Oho!" said Coconnas, as he watched these arrangements; "it appears that +this will not come off quite as I expected." + +Already the noise made by De Mouy in withdrawing the bar was heard. The +Swiss had left their hiding-place to arrange themselves near the door, +Maurevel and La Hurière were going forward on tiptoe, and Coconnas with +a dying gleam of gentlemanly feeling was standing where he was, when the +young woman who had been for the moment utterly forgotten suddenly +appeared on the balcony and uttered a terrible shriek at the sight of +the Swiss, Maurevel, and La Hurière. + +De Mouy, who had already half opened the door, paused. + +"Come back! come back!" cried the young woman. "I see swords glitter, +and the match of an arquebuse--there is treachery!" + +"Oho!" said the young man; "let us see, then, what all this means." + +And he closed the door, replaced the bar, and went upstairs again. + +Maurevel's order of battle was changed as soon as he saw that De Mouy +was not going to come out. The Swiss went and posted themselves at the +other corner of the street, and La Hurière, with his arquebuse in his +hand, waited till the enemy reappeared at the window. + +He did not wait long. De Mouy came forward holding before him two +pistols of such respectable length that La Hurière, who was already +aiming, suddenly reflected that the Huguenot's bullets had no farther to +fly in reaching the street from the balcony than his had in reaching +the balcony. + +"Assuredly," said he to himself, "I may kill this gentleman, but +likewise this gentleman may kill me in the same way." + +Now as Maître La Hurière, an innkeeper by profession, was only +accidentally a soldier, this reflection determined him to retreat and +seek shelter in the corner of the Rue de Braque, far enough away to +cause him some difficulty in finding with a certain certainty, +especially at night, the line which a bullet from his arquebuse would +take in reaching De Mouy. + +De Mouy cast a glance around him, and advanced cautiously like a man +preparing to fight a duel; but seeing nothing, he exclaimed: + +"Why, it appears, my worthy informant, that you have forgotten your +arquebuse at my door! Here I am. What do you want with me?" + +"Aha!" said Coconnas to himself; "he is certainly a brave fellow!" + +"Well," continued De Mouy, "friends or enemies, whichever you are, do +you not see I am waiting?" + +La Hurière kept silence, Maurevel made no reply, and the three Swiss +remained in covert. + +Coconnas waited an instant; then, seeing that no one took part in the +conversation begun by La Hurière and continued by De Mouy, he left his +station, and advancing into the middle of the street, took off his hat +and said: + +"Sir, we are not here for an assassination, as you seem to suppose, but +for a duel. I am here with one of your enemies, who was desirous of +meeting you to end gallantly an old controversy. Eh, by Heaven! come +forward, Monsieur de Maurevel, instead of turning your back. The +gentleman accepts." + +"Maurevel!" cried De Mouy; "Maurevel, the assassin of my father! +Maurevel, the king's assassin! Ah, by Heaven! Yes, I accept." + +And taking aim at Maurevel, who was about to knock at the Hôtel de Guise +to request a reinforcement, he sent a bullet through his hat. + +At the noise of the report and Maurevel's shouts, the guard which had +escorted the Duchesse de Nevers came out, accompanied by three or four +gentlemen, followed by their pages, and approached the house of young De +Mouy's mistress. + +A second pistol-shot, fired into the midst of the troop, killed the +soldier next to Maurevel; after which De Mouy, finding himself +weaponless, or at least with useless weapons, for his pistols had been +fired and his adversaries were beyond the reach of his sword, took +shelter behind the balcony gallery. + +Meantime here and there windows began to be thrown open in the +neighborhood, and according to the pacific or bellicose dispositions of +their inhabitants, were barricaded or bristled with muskets and +arquebuses. + +"Help! my worthy Mercandon," shouted De Mouy, beckoning to an elderly +man who, from a window which had just been thrown open in front of the +Hôtel de Guise, was trying to make out the cause of the confusion. + +"Is it you who call, Sire de Mouy?" cried the old man: "are they +attacking you?" + +"Me--you--all the Protestants; and wait--there is the proof!" + +That moment De Mouy had seen La Hurière aim his arquebuse at him; it was +fired; but the young man had time to stoop, and the ball broke a window +above his head. + +"Mercandon!" exclaimed Coconnas, who, in his delight at sight of this +fray, had forgotten his creditor, but was reminded of him by De Mouy's +apostrophe; "Mercandon, Rue du Chaume--that is it! Ah, he lives there! +Good! Each of us will settle accounts with our man." + +And, while the people from the Hôtel de Guise were breaking in the doors +of De Mouy's house, and Maurevel, with a torch in his hand, was trying +to set it on fire--while now that the doors were once broken, there was +a fearful struggle with a single antagonist who at each rapier-thrust +brought down his foe--Coconnas tried, by the help of a paving-stone, to +break in Mercandon's door, and the latter, unmoved by this solitary +effort, was doing his best with his arquebuse out of his window. + +And now all this dark and deserted quarter was lighted up, as if by open +day,--peopled like the interior of an ant-hive; for from the Hôtel de +Montmorency six or eight Huguenot gentlemen, with their servants and +friends, had just made a furious charge, and, supported by the firing +from the windows, were beginning to repulse Maurevel's and the De +Guises' force, who at length were driven back to the place whence they +had come. + +Coconnas, who had not yet succeeded in smashing Mercandon's door, though +he was working at it with all his might, was caught in this sudden +retreat. Placing his back to the wall, and grasping his sword firmly, he +began not only to defend himself, but to attack his assailants, with +cries so terrible that they were heard above all the uproar. He struck +right and left, hitting friends and enemies, until a wide space was +cleared around him. As his rapier made a hole in some breast, and the +warm blood spurted over his hands and face, he, with dilated eye, +expanded nostrils, and clinched teeth, regained the ground lost, and +again approached the beleaguered house. + +De Mouy, after a terrible combat in the staircase and hall, had finally +come out of the burning house like a true hero. In the midst of all the +struggle he had not ceased to cry, "Here, Maurevel!--Maurevel, where are +you?" insulting him by the most opprobrious epithets. + +He at length appeared in the street, supporting on one arm his mistress, +half naked and nearly fainting, and holding a poniard between his teeth. +His sword, flaming by the sweeping action he gave it, traced circles of +white or red, according as the moon glittered on the blade or a flambeau +glared on its blood-stained brightness. + +Maurevel had fled. La Hurière, driven back by De Mouy as far as +Coconnas, who did not recognize him, and received him at sword's point, +was begging for mercy on both sides. At this moment Mercandon perceived +him, and knew him, by his white scarf, to be one of the murderers. He +fired. La Hurière shrieked, threw up his arms, dropped his arquebuse, +and, after having vainly attempted to reach the wall, in order to +support himself, fell with his face flat on the earth. + +De Mouy took advantage of this circumstance, turned down the Rue de +Paradis, and disappeared. + +Such had been the resistance of the Huguenots that the De Guise party, +quite repulsed, had retired into their hôtel, fearing to be besieged and +taken in their own habitation. + +Coconnas who, intoxicated with blood and tumult, had reached that degree +of excitement when, with the men of the south more especially, courage +changes into madness, had not seen or heard anything, and noticed only +that there was not such a roar in his ears, and that his hands and face +were a little dryer than they had been. Dropping the point of his sword, +he saw near him a man lying face downward in a red stream, and around +him burning houses. + +It was a very short truce, for just as he was approaching this man, whom +he recognized as La Hurière, the door of the house he had in vain tried +to burst in, opened, and old Mercandon, followed by his son and two +nephews, rushed upon him. + +"Here he is! here he is!" cried they all, with one voice. + +Coconnas was in the middle of the street, and fearing to be surrounded +by these four men who assailed him at once, sprang backward with the +agility of one of the chamois which he had so often hunted in his native +mountains, and in an instant found himself with his back against the +wall of the Hôtel de Guise. Once at ease as to not being surprised from +behind he put himself in a posture of defence, and said, jestingly: + +"Aha, father Mercandon, don't you know me?" + +"Wretch!" cried the old Huguenot, "I know you well; you are engaged +against me--me, your father's friend and companion." + +"And his creditor, are you not?" + +"Yes; his creditor, as you say." + +"Well, then," said Coconnas, "I have come to settle our accounts." + +"Seize him, bind him!" said Mercandon to the young men who accompanied +him, and who at his bidding rushed toward the Piedmontese. + +"One moment! one moment!" said Coconnas, laughing, "to seize a man you +must have a writ, and you have forgotten to secure one from the +provost." + +And with these words he crossed his sword with the young man nearest to +him and at the first blow cut his wrist. + +The wounded man retreated with a howl. + +"That will do for one!" said Coconnas. + +At the same moment the window under which Coconnas had sought shelter +opened noisily. He sprang to one side, fearing an attack from behind; +but instead of an enemy he saw a woman; instead of the enemy's weapon he +was prepared to encounter, a nosegay fell at his feet. + +"Ah!" he said, "a woman!" + +He saluted the lady with his sword, and stooped to pick up the bouquet. + +"Be on your guard, brave Catholic!--be on your guard!" cried the lady. + +Coconnas rose, but not before the second nephew's dagger had pierced his +cloak, and wounded his other shoulder. + +The lady uttered a piercing shriek. + +Coconnas thanked her, assured her by a gesture, and then made a pass, +which the nephew parried; but at the second thrust, his foot slipped in +the blood, and Coconnas, springing at him like a tiger-cat, drove his +sword through his breast. + +"Good! good! brave cavalier!" exclaimed the lady of the Hôtel de Guise, +"good! I will send you succor." + +"Do not give yourself any trouble about that, madame," was Coconnas's +reply; "rather look on to the end, if it interests you, and see how the +Comte Annibal de Coconnas settles the Huguenots." + +At this moment old Mercandon's son aimed a pistol at close range to +Coconnas, and fired. The count fell on his knee. The lady at the window +shrieked again; but Coconnas rose instantly; he had knelt only to avoid +the bullet, which struck the wall about two feet beneath where the lady +was standing. + +Almost at the same moment a cry of rage issued from the window of +Mercandon's house, and an old woman, who recognized Coconnas as a +Catholic, from his white scarf and cross, hurled a flower-pot at him, +which struck him above the knee. + +"Capital!" said Coconnas; "one throws flowers at me and at the other, +flower-pots; if this goes on, they'll be tearing houses down!" + +"Thanks, mother, thanks!" said the young man. + +"Go on, wife, go on," said old Mercandon; "but take care of yourself." + +"Wait, Monsieur de Coconnas, wait!" said the young woman of the Hôtel de +Guise, "I will have them shoot at the windows!" + +"Ah! So it is a hell of women, is it?" said Coconnas. "Some of them for +me and the others against me! By Heaven! let us put an end to this!" + +The scene in fact was much changed and was evidently approaching its +climax. Coconnas, who was wounded to be sure, but who had all the vigor +of his four and twenty years, was used to arms, and angered rather than +weakened by the three or four scratches he had received, now faced only +Mercandon and his son: Mercandon, an aged man between sixty and seventy; +his son, a youth of sixteen or eighteen, pale, fair-haired and slender, +had flung down his pistol which had been discharged and was therefore +useless, and was feebly brandishing a sword half as long as the +Piedmontese's. The father, armed only with an unloaded arquebuse and a +poniard, was calling for assistance. An old woman--the young man's +mother--in the opposite window held in her hand a piece of marble which +she was preparing to hurl. + +Coconnas, excited on the one hand by threats, and on the other by +encouragements, proud of his two-fold victory, intoxicated with powder +and blood, lighted by the reflection of a burning house, elated by the +idea that he was fighting under the eyes of a woman whose beauty was as +superior as he was sure her rank was high,--Coconnas, like the last of +the Horatii, felt his strength redouble, and seeing the young man +falter, rushed on him and crossed his small weapon with his terrible and +bloody rapier. Two strokes sufficed to drive it out of its owner's +hands. Then Mercandon tried to drive Coconnas back, so that the +projectiles thrown from the window might be sure to strike him, but +Coconnas, to paralyze the double attack of the old man, who tried to +stab him with his dagger, and the mother of the young man, who was +endeavoring to break his skull with a stone she was ready to throw, +seized his adversary by the body, presenting him to all the blows, like +a shield, and well-nigh strangling him in his Herculean grasp. + +"Help! help!" cried the young man; "he is crushing my chest--help! +help!" + +And his voice grew faint in a low and choking groan. + +Then Mercandon ceased to attack, and began to entreat. + +"Mercy, mercy! Monsieur de Coconnas, have mercy!--he is my only child!" + +"He is my son, my son!" cried the mother; "the hope of our old age! Do +not kill him, sir,--do not kill him!" + +"Really," cried Coconnas, bursting into laughter, "not kill him! What, +pray, did he mean to do to me, with his sword and pistol?" + +"Sir," said Mercandon, clasping his hands, "I have at home your father's +note of hand, I will give it back to you--I have ten thousand crowns of +gold, I will give them to you--I have our family jewels, they shall be +yours; but do not kill him--do not kill him!" + +"And I have my love," said the lady in the Hôtel de Guise, in a low +tone, "and I promise it you." + +Coconnas reflected a moment, and said suddenly: + +"Are you a Huguenot?" + +"Yes, I am," murmured the youth. + +"Then you must die!" replied Coconnas, frowning and putting to his +adversary's breast his keen and glittering dagger. + +"Die!" cried the old man; "my poor child die!" + +And the mother's shriek resounded so pitifully and loud that for a +moment it shook the Piedmontese's firm resolution. + +"Oh, Madame la Duchesse!" cried the father, turning toward the lady at +the Hôtel de Guise, "intercede for us, and every morning and evening you +shall be remembered in our prayers." + +"Then let him be a convert," said the lady. + +"I am a Protestant," said the boy. + +"Then die!" exclaimed Coconnas, lifting his dagger; "die! since you will +not accept the life which those lovely lips offer to you." + +Mercandon and his wife saw the blade of that deadly weapon gleam like +lightning above the head of their son. + +"My son Olivier," shrieked his mother, "abjure, abjure!" + +"Abjure, my dear boy!" cried Mercandon, going on his knees to Coconnas; +"do not leave us alone on the earth!" + +"Abjure all together," said Coconnas; "for one _Credo_, three souls and +one life." + +"I am willing," said the youth. + +"We are willing!" cried Mercandon and his wife. + +"On your knees, then," said Coconnas, "and let your son repeat after me, +word for word, the prayer I shall say." + +The father obeyed first. + +"I am ready," said the son, also kneeling. + +Coconnas then began to repeat in Latin the words of the _Credo_. But +whether from chance or calculation, young Olivier knelt close to where +his sword had fallen. Scarcely did he see this weapon within his reach +than, not ceasing to repeat the words which Coconnas dictated, he +stretched out his hand to take it up. Coconnas watched the movement, +although he pretended not to see it; but at the moment when the young +man touched the handle of the sword with his fingers he rushed on him, +knocked him over, exclaiming, "Ah, traitor!" and plunged his dagger into +his throat. + +The youth uttered one cry, raised himself convulsively on his knee, and +fell dead. + +"Ah, ruffian!" shrieked Mercandon, "you slay us to rob us of the hundred +rose nobles you owe us." + +"Faith! no," said Coconnas, "and the proof,"--and as he said these words +he flung at the old man's feet the purse which his father had given him +before his departure to pay his creditor,--"and the proof," he went on +to say, "is this money which I give you!" + +"And here's your death!" cried the old woman from the window. + +"Take care, M. de Coconnas, take care!" called out the lady at the Hôtel +de Guise. + +But before Coconnas could turn his head to comply with this advice, or +get out of the way of the threat, a heavy mass came hissing through the +air, fell on the Piedmontese's hat, broke his sword, and prostrated him +on the pavement; he was overcome, crushed, so that he did not hear the +double cry of joy and distress which came from the right and left. + +Mercandon instantly rushed, dagger in hand, on Coconnas, now bereft of +his senses; but at this moment the door of the Hôtel de Guise opened, +and the old man, seeing swords and partisans gleaming, fled, while the +lady he had called "Madame la Duchesse," her beauty terrible in the +light of the flames, dazzling with diamonds and other gems, leaned half +out of the window, in order to direct the newcomers, pointing her arm +toward Coconnas. + +"There! there! in front of me--a gentleman in a red doublet. +There!--that is he--yes, that is he." + + + + +CHAPTER X. + +DEATH, MASS, OR THE BASTILLE. + + +Marguerite, as we have said, had shut the door and returned to her +chamber. But as she entered, panting, she saw Gillonne, who, +terror-struck, was leaning against the door of the closet, staring at +the traces of blood on the bed, the furniture, and the carpet. + +"Ah! madame!" she cried when she saw the queen. "Oh! madame! tell me, is +he dead?" + +"Silence!" said Marguerite in that tone of voice which gives some +indication of the importance of the command. + +Gillonne was silent. + +Marguerite then took from her purse a tiny gilded key, opened the closet +door, and showed the young man to the servant. La Mole had succeeded in +getting to his feet and making his way to the window. A small poniard, +such as women at that time were in the habit of carrying, was at hand, +and when he heard the door opening he had seized it. + +"Fear nothing, sir," said Marguerite; "for, on my soul, you are in +safety!" + +La Mole sank on his knees. + +"Oh, madame," he cried, "you are more than a queen--you are a goddess!" + +"Do not agitate yourself, sir," said Marguerite, "your blood is still +flowing. Oh, look, Gillonne, how pale he is--let us see where you are +wounded." + +"Madame," said La Mole, trying to fix on certain parts of his body the +pain which pervaded his whole frame, "I think I have a dagger-thrust in +my shoulder, another in my chest,--the other wounds are not worth +bothering about." + +"We will see," said Marguerite. "Gillonne, bring me my balsam casket." + +Gillonne obeyed, and returned holding in one hand a casket, and in the +other a silver-gilt ewer and some fine Holland linen. + +"Help me to lift him, Gillonne," said Queen Marguerite; "for in +attempting to get up the poor gentleman has lost all his strength." + +"But, madame," said La Mole, "I am wholly confused. Indeed, I cannot +allow"-- + +"But, sir, you will let us do for you, I think," said Marguerite. "When +we may save you, it would be a crime to let you die." + +"Oh!" cried La Mole, "I would rather die than see you, the queen, stain +your hands with blood as unworthy as mine. Oh, never, never!" + +And he drew back respectfully. + +"Your blood, sir," replied Gillonne, with a smile, "has already stained +her majesty's bed and chamber." + +Marguerite folded her mantle over her cambric peignoir, all bespattered +with small red spots. This movement, so expressive of feminine modesty, +caused La Mole to remember that he had held in his arms and pressed to +his heart this beautiful, beloved queen, and at the recollection a +fugitive glow of color came into his pallid cheeks. + +"Madame," stammered La Mole, "can you not leave me to the care of the +surgeon?" + +"Of a Catholic surgeon, perhaps," said the queen, with an expression +which La Mole understood and which made him shudder. "Do you not know," +continued the queen in a voice and with a smile of incomparable +sweetness, "that we daughters of France are trained to know the +qualities of herbs and to make balsams? for our duty as women and as +queens has always been to soften pain. Therefore we are equal to the +best surgeons in the world; so our flatterers say! Has not my +reputation in this regard come to your ears? Come, Gillonne, let us to +work!" + +La Mole again endeavored to resist; he repeated that he would rather die +than occasion the queen labor which, though begun in pity, might end in +disgust; but this exertion completely exhausted his strength, and +falling back, he fainted a second time. + +Marguerite, then seizing the poniard which he had dropped, quickly cut +the lace of his doublet; while Gillonne, with another blade, ripped open +the sleeves. + +Next Gillonne, with a cloth dipped in fresh water, stanched the blood +which escaped from his shoulder and breast, and Marguerite, with a +silver needle with a round point, probed the wounds with all the +delicacy and skill that Maître Ambroise Paré could have displayed in +such a case. + +"A dangerous but not mortal wound, _acerrimum humeri vulnus, non autem +lethale_," murmured the lovely and learned lady-surgeon; "hand me the +salve, Gillonne, and get the lint ready." + +Meantime Gillonne, to whom the queen had just given this new order, had +already dried and perfumed the young man's chest and arms, which were +like an antique model, as well as his shoulders, which fell gracefully +back; his neck shaded by thick, curling locks, and which seemed rather +to belong to a statue of Parian marble than the mangled frame of a dying +man. + +"Poor young man!" whispered Gillonne, looking not so much at her work as +at the object of it. + +"Is he not handsome?" said Marguerite, with royal frankness. + +"Yes, madame; but it seems to me that instead of leaving him lying there +on the floor, we should lift him on this couch against which he is +leaning." + +"Yes," said Marguerite, "you are right." + +And the two women, bending over, uniting their strength, raised La Mole, +and laid him on a kind of great sofa in front of the window, which they +opened in order to give them fresh air. + +This movement aroused La Mole, who drew a long sigh, and opening his +eyes, began to experience that indescribable sensation of well-being +which comes to a wounded man when on his return to consciousness he +finds coolness instead of burning heat, and the perfumes of balsams +instead of the nauseating odor of blood. + +He muttered some disconnected words, to which Marguerite replied with a +smile, placing her finger on her lips. + +At this moment several raps on the door were heard. + +"Some one knocks at the secret passage," said Marguerite. + +"Who can be coming, madame?" asked Gillonne, in a panic. + +"I will go and see who it is," said Marguerite; "remain here, and do not +leave him for a single instant." + +Marguerite went into the chamber, and closing the closet door, opened +that of the passage which led to the King's and queen mother's +apartments. + +"Madame de Sauve!" she exclaimed, suddenly drawing back with an +expression which resembled hatred, if not terror, so true it is that a +woman never forgives another for taking from her even a man whom she +does not love,--"Madame de Sauve!" + +"Yes, your majesty!" she replied, clasping her hands. + +"You here, madame?" exclaimed Marguerite, more and more surprised, while +at the same time her voice grew more and more imperative. + +Charlotte fell on her knees. + +"Madame," she said, "pardon me! I know how guilty I am toward you; but +if you knew--the fault is not wholly mine; an express command of the +queen mother"-- + +"Rise!" said Marguerite, "and as I do not suppose you have come with the +intention of justifying yourself to me, tell me why you have come at +all." + +"I have come, madame," said Charlotte, still on her knees, and with a +look of wild alarm, "I came to ask you if he were not here?" + +"Here! who?--of whom are you speaking, madame? for I really do not +understand." + +"Of the king!" + +"Of the king? What, do you follow him to my apartments? You know very +well that he never comes here." + +"Ah, madame!" continued the Baronne de Sauve, without replying to these +attacks, or even seeming to comprehend them, "ah, would to Heaven he +were here!" + +"And why so?" + +"Eh, _mon Dieu_! madame, because they are murdering the Huguenots, and +the King of Navarre is the chief of the Huguenots." + +"Oh!" cried Marguerite, seizing Madame de Sauve by the hand, and +compelling her to rise; "ah! I had forgotten; besides, I did not think a +king could run the same dangers as other men." + +"More, madame,--a thousand times more!" cried Charlotte. + +"In fact, Madame de Lorraine had warned me; I had begged him not to +leave the Louvre. Has he done so?" + +"No, no, madame, he is in the Louvre; but if he is not here"-- + +"He is not here!" + +"Oh!" cried Madame de Sauve, with an outburst of agony, "then he is a +dead man, for the queen mother has sworn his destruction!" + +"His destruction! ah," said Marguerite, "you terrify me--impossible!" + +"Madame," replied Madame de Sauve, with that energy which passion alone +can give, "I tell you that no one knows where the King of Navarre is." + +"And where is the queen mother?" + +"The queen mother sent me to find Monsieur de Guise and Monsieur de +Tavannes, who were in her oratory, and then dismissed me. Then--pardon +me, madame--I went to my room and waited as usual." + +"For my husband, I suppose." + +"He did not come, madame. Then I sought for him everywhere and asked +every one for him. One soldier told me he thought he had seen him in the +midst of the guards who accompanied him, with his sword drawn in his +hand, some time before the massacre began, and the massacre has begun an +hour ago." + +"Thanks, madame," said Marguerite; "and although perhaps the sentiment +which impels you is an additional offence toward me,--yet, again, I +thank you!" + +"Oh, forgive me, madame!" she said, "and I will return to my apartments +stronger for your pardon, for I dare not follow you, even at a +distance." + +Marguerite extended her hand to her. + +"I will go to Queen Catharine," she said. "Return to your room. The King +of Navarre is under my protection; I have promised him my alliance and I +will be faithful to my promise." + +"But suppose you cannot obtain access to the queen mother, madame?" + +"Then I will go to my brother Charles, and I will speak to him." + +"Go, madame, go," said Charlotte, leaving Marguerite room to pass, "and +may God guide your majesty!" + +Marguerite darted down the corridor, but when she reached the end of it +she turned to make sure that Madame de Sauve was not lingering behind. +Madame de Sauve was following her. + +The Queen of Navarre saw her go upstairs to her own apartment, and then +she herself went toward the queen's chamber. + +All was changed here. Instead of the crowd of eager courtiers, who +usually opened their ranks before the queen and respectfully saluted +her, Marguerite met only guards with red partisans and garments stained +with blood, or gentlemen in torn cloaks,--their faces blackened with +powder, bearing orders and despatches,--some going in, others going out, +and all this movement back and forth made a great and terrible confusion +in the galleries. + +Marguerite, however, went boldly on until she reached the queen mother's +antechamber. But this room was guarded by a double file of soldiers, who +allowed only those who had a certain countersign to enter. Marguerite in +vain tried to pass this living barrier; several times she saw the door +open and shut, and each time she saw Catharine, her youth restored by +action, as alert as if she were only twenty years of age, writing, +receiving letters, opening them, addressing a word to one, a smile to +another; and those on whom she smiled most graciously were those who +were the most covered with dust and blood. + +Amid this vast tumult which reigned in the Louvre and filled it with +frightful clamors, could be heard the rattling of musketry more and more +insistently repeated. + +"I shall never get to her," said Marguerite to herself after she had +made three ineffectual attempts to pass the halberdiers. "Rather than +waste my time here, I must go and find my brother." + +At this moment M. de Guise passed; he had just informed the queen of the +murder of the admiral, and was returning to the butchery. + +"Oh, Henry!" cried Marguerite, "where is the King of Navarre?" + +The duke looked at her with a smile of astonishment, bowed, and without +any reply passed out with his guards. + +Marguerite ran to a captain who was on the point of leaving the Louvre +and was engaged in having his men's arquebuses loaded. + +"The King of Navarre!" she exclaimed; "sir, where is the King of +Navarre?" + +"I do not know, madame," replied the captain, "I do not belong to his +majesty's guards." + +"Ah, my dear Réné," said the queen, recognizing Catharine's perfumer, +"is that you?--you have just left my mother. Do you know what has become +of my husband?" + +"His majesty the King of Navarre is no friend of mine, madame, you ought +to remember that. It is even said," he added, with a contraction of his +features more like a grimace than a smile, "it is even said that he +ventures to accuse me of having been the accomplice, with Madame +Catharine, in poisoning his mother." + +"No, no!" cried Marguerite, "my good Réné, do not believe that!" + +"Oh, it is of little consequence, madame!" said the perfumer; "neither +the King of Navarre nor his party is any longer to be feared!" + +And he turned his back on Marguerite. + +"Ah, Monsieur de Tavannes!" cried Marguerite, "one word, I beseech you!" + +Tavannes, who was going by, stopped. + +"Where is Henry of Navarre?" + +"Faith," he replied, in a loud voice, "I believe he is somewhere in the +city with the Messieurs d'Alençon and de Condé." + +And then he added, in a tone so low that the queen alone could hear: + +"Your majesty, if you would see him,--to be in whose place I would give +my life,--go to the king's armory." + +"Thanks, Tavannes, thanks!" said Marguerite, who, of all that Tavannes +had said, had heard only the chief direction; "thank you, I will go +there." + +And she went on her way, murmuring: + +"Oh, after all I promised him--after the way in which he behaved to me +when that ingrate, Henry de Guise, was concealed in the closet--I cannot +let him perish!" + +And she knocked at the door of the King's apartments; but they were +encompassed within by two companies of guards. + +"No one is admitted to the King," said the officer, coming forward. + +"But I"--said Marguerite. + +"The order is general." + +"I, the Queen of Navarre!--I, his sister!" + +"My orders admit of no exception, madame; I pray you to pardon me." + +And the officer closed the door. + +"Oh, he is lost!" exclaimed Marguerite, alarmed at the sight of all +those sinister faces, which even if they did not breathe vengeance, +expressed sternness of purpose. "Yes, yes! I comprehend all. I have been +used as a bait. I am the snare which has entrapped the Huguenots; but I +will enter, if I am killed in the attempt!" + +And Marguerite ran like a mad creature through the corridors and +galleries, when suddenly, as she passed by a small door, she heard a +sweet song, almost melancholy, so monotonous it was. It was a +Calvinistic psalm, sung by a trembling voice in the next room. + +"My brother the king's nurse--the good Madelon--she is there!" exclaimed +Marguerite. "God of the Christians, aid me now!" + +And, full of hope, Marguerite knocked at the little door. + + * * * * * + +Soon after the counsel which Marguerite had conveyed to him, after his +conversation with Réné, and after leaving the queen mother's chamber, in +spite of the efforts of the poor little Phoebe,--who like a good +genius tried to detain him,--Henry of Navarre had met several Catholic +gentlemen, who, under a pretext of doing him honor, had escorted him to +his apartments, where a score of Huguenots awaited him, who had rallied +round the young prince, and, having once rallied, would not leave +him--so strongly, for some hours, had the presentiment of that fatal +night weighed on the Louvre. They had remained there, without any one +attempting to disturb them. At last, at the first stroke of the bell of +Saint-Germain l'Auxerrois, which resounded through all hearts like a +funeral knell, Tavannes entered, and, in the midst of a death-like +silence, announced that King Charles IX. desired to speak to Henry. + +It was useless to attempt resistance, and no one thought of it. They +heard the ceilings, galleries, and corridors creaking beneath the feet +of the assembled soldiers, who were in the court-yards, as well as in +the apartments, to the number of two thousand. Henry, after having taken +leave of his friends, whom he was never again to see, followed Tavannes, +who led him to a small gallery next the King's apartments, where he left +him alone, unarmed, and a prey to mistrust. + +The King of Navarre counted here alone, minute by minute, two mortal +hours; listening, with increasing alarm, to the sound of the tocsin and +the discharge of fire-arms; seeing through a small window, by the light +of the flames and flambeaux, the refugees and their assassins pass; +understanding nothing of these shrieks of murder, these cries of +distress,--not even suspecting, in spite of his knowledge of Charles +IX., the queen mother, and the Duc de Guise, the horrible drama at this +moment enacting. + +Henry had not physical courage, but he had better than that--he had +moral fortitude. Though he feared danger, yet he smiled at it and faced +it; but it was danger in the field of battle--danger in the open +air--danger in the eyes of all, and attended by the noisy harmony of +trumpets and the loud and vibrating beat of drums; but now he was +weaponless, alone, locked in, shut up in a semi-darkness where he could +scarcely see the enemy that might glide toward him, and the weapon that +might be raised to strike him. + +These two hours were, perhaps, the most agonizing of his life. + +In the hottest of the tumult, and as Henry was beginning to understand +that, in all probability, this was some organized massacre, a captain +came to him, and conducted the prince along a corridor to the King's +rooms. As they approached, the door opened and closed behind them as if +by magic. The captain then led Henry to the King, who was in his armory. + +When they entered, the King was seated in a great arm-chair, his two +hands placed on the two arms of the seat, and his head falling on his +chest. At the noise made by their entrance Charles looked up, and Henry +observed the perspiration dropping from his brow like large beads. + +"Good evening, Harry," said the young King, roughly. "La Chastre, leave +us." + +The captain obeyed. + +A gloomy silence ensued. Henry looked around him with uneasiness, and +saw that he was alone with the King. + +Charles IX. suddenly arose. + +"_Par la mordieu!_" said he, passing his hands through his light brown +hair, and wiping his brow at the same time, "you are glad to be with me, +are you not, Harry?" + +"Certainly, sire," replied the King of Navarre, "I am always happy to be +with your Majesty." + +"Happier than if you were down there, eh?" continued Charles, following +his own thoughts rather than replying to Henry's compliment. + +"I do not understand, sire," replied Henry. + +"Look out, then, and you will soon understand." + +And with a quick movement Charles stepped or rather sprang to the +window, and drawing with him his brother-in-law, who became more and +more terror-stricken, he pointed to him the horrible outlines of the +assassins, who, on the deck of a boat, were cutting the throats or +drowning the victims brought them at every moment. + +"In the name of Heaven," cried Henry; "what is going on to-night?" + +"To-night, sir," replied Charles IX., "they are ridding me of all the +Huguenots. Look yonder, over the Hôtel de Bourbon, at the smoke and +flames: they are the smoke and flames of the admiral's house, which is +on fire. Do you see that body, which these good Catholics are drawing on +a torn mattress? It is the corpse of the admiral's son-in-law--the +carcass of your friend, Téligny." + +"What means this?" cried the King of Navarre, seeking vainly by his side +for the hilt of his dagger, and trembling equally with shame and anger; +for he felt that he was at the same time laughed at and threatened. + +"It means," cried Charles IX., becoming suddenly furious, and turning +frightfully pale, "it means that I will no longer have any Huguenots +about me. Do you hear me, Henry?--Am I King? Am I master?" + +"But, your Majesty"-- + +"My Majesty kills and massacres at this moment all that is not Catholic; +it is my pleasure. Are you a Catholic?" exclaimed Charles, whose anger +was rising higher and higher, like an awful tide. + +"Sire," replied Henry, "do you remember your own words, 'What matters +the religion of those who serve me well'?" + +"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Charles, bursting into a ferocious laugh; "you ask +me if I remember my words, Henry! '_Verba volant_,' as my sister Margot +says; and had not all those"--and he pointed to the city with his +finger--"served me well, also? Were they not brave in battle, wise in +council, deeply devoted? They were all useful subjects--but they were +Huguenots, and I want none but Catholics." + +Henry remained silent. + +"Do you understand me now, Harry?" asked Charles. + +"I understand, sire." + +"Well?" + +"Well, sire, I do not see why the King of Navarre should not do what so +many gentlemen and poor folk have done. For if they all die, poor +unfortunates, it is because the same terms have been proposed to them +which your Majesty proposes to me, and they have refused, as I refuse." + +Charles seized the young prince's arm, and fixed on him a look the +vacancy of which suddenly changed into a fierce and savage scowl. + +"What!" he said, "do you believe that I have taken the trouble to offer +the mass to those whose throats we are cutting yonder?" + +"Sire," said Henry, disengaging his arm, "will you not die in the +religion of your fathers?" + +"Yes, _par la mordieu_! and you?" + +"Well, sire, I will do the same!" replied Henry. + +Charles uttered a roar of rage and, with trembling hand, seized his +arquebuse, which lay on the table. + +Henry, who stood leaning against the tapestry, with the perspiration on +his brow, and nevertheless, owing to his presence of mind, calm to all +appearance, followed every movement of the terrible king with the greedy +stupefaction of a bird fascinated by a serpent. + +Charles cocked his arquebuse, and stamping with blind rage cried, as he +dazzled Henry's eyes with the polished barrel of the deadly gun: + +"Will you accept the mass?" + +Henry remained mute. + +Charles IX. shook the vaults of the Louvre with the most terrible oath +that ever issued from the lips of man, and grew even more livid than +before. + +"Death, mass, or the Bastille!" he cried, taking aim at the King of +Navarre. + +"Oh, sire!" exclaimed Henry, "will you kill me--me, your brother?" + +Henry thus, by his incomparable cleverness, which was one of the +strongest faculties of his organization, evaded the answer which Charles +IX. expected, for undoubtedly had his reply been in the negative Henry +had been a dead man. + +As immediately after the climax of rage, reaction begins, Charles IX. +did not repeat the question he had addressed to the Prince of Navarre; +and after a moment's hesitation, during which he uttered a hoarse kind +of growl, he went back to the open window, and aimed at a man who was +running along the quay in front. + +"I must kill some one!" cried Charles IX., ghastly as a corpse, his eyes +suffused with blood; and firing as he spoke, he struck the man who was +running. + +Henry uttered a groan. + +Then, animated by a frightful ardor, Charles loaded and fired his +arquebuse without cessation, uttering cries of joy every time his aim +was successful. + +"It is all over with me!" said the King of Navarre to himself; "when he +sees no one else to kill, he will kill me!" + +"Well," said a voice behind the princes, suddenly, "is it done?" + +It was Catharine de Médicis, who had entered unobserved just as the King +was firing his last shot. + +"No, thousand thunders of hell!" said the King, throwing his arquebuse +across the room. "No, the obstinate blockhead--he will not consent!" + +Catharine made no reply. She turned her eyes slowly where Henry stood as +motionless as one of the figures of the tapestry against which he was +leaning. She then gave a glance at the King, which seemed to say: + +"Then why he is alive?" + +"He is alive, he is alive!" murmured Charles IX., who perfectly +understood the glance, and replied to it without hesitation,--"he is +alive--because he is my relative." + +Catharine smiled. + +Henry saw the smile, and realized that his struggle was to be with +Catharine. + +"Madame," he said to her, "the whole thing comes from you, I see very +well, and my brother-in-law Charles is not to blame. You laid the plan +for drawing me into a snare. You made your daughter the bait which was +to destroy us all. You separated me from my wife that she might not see +me killed before her eyes"-- + +"Yes, but that shall not be!" cried another voice, breathless and +impassioned, which Henry instantly recognized and which made Charles +start with surprise and Catharine with rage. + +"Marguerite!" exclaimed Henry. + +"Margot!" said Charles IX. + +"My daughter!" muttered Catharine. + +"Sire," said Marguerite to Henry, "your last words were an accusation +against me, and you were both right and wrong,--right, for I am the +means by which they attempted to destroy you; wrong, for I did not know +that you were going to your destruction. I, sire, owe my own life to +chance--to my mother's forgetfulness, perhaps; but as soon as I learned +your danger I remembered my duty, and a wife's duty is to share her +husband's fortunes. If you are exiled, sire, I will follow you into +exile; if you are put into prison I will be your fellow-captive; if they +kill you, I will also die." + +And she offered her husband her hand, which he eagerly seized, if not +with love, at least with gratitude. + +"Oh, my poor Margot!" said Charles, "you had much better bid him become +a Catholic!" + +"Sire," replied Marguerite, with that lofty dignity which was so natural +to her, "for your own sake do not ask any prince of your house to commit +a cowardly act." + +Catharine darted a significant glance at Charles. + +"Brother," cried Marguerite, who equally well with Charles IX. +understood Catharine's ominous pantomime, "my brother, remember! you +made him my husband!" + +Charles IX., at bay between Catharine's commanding eyes and Marguerite's +supplicating look, as if between the two opposing principles of good and +evil, stood for an instant undecided; at last Ormazd won the day. + +"In truth," said he, whispering in Catharine's ear, "Margot is right, +and Harry is my brother-in-law." + +"Yes," replied Catharine in a similar whisper in her son's ear, +"yes--but supposing he were not?" + + + + +CHAPTER XI. + +THE HAWTHORN OF THE CEMETERY OF THE INNOCENTS. + + +As soon as Marguerite reached her own apartments she tried in vain to +divine the words which Catharine de Médicis had whispered to Charles +IX., and which had cut short the terrible council of life and death +which was taking place. + +She spent a part of the morning in attending to La Mole, and the rest in +trying to guess the enigma, which her mind could not discover. + +The King of Navarre remained a prisoner in the Louvre, the persecution +of the Huguenots went on hotter than ever. The terrible night was +followed by a day of massacre still more horrible. No longer the bells +rang the tocsin, but _Te Deums_, and the echoes of these joyous notes, +resounding amid fire and slaughter, were perhaps even more lugubrious in +sunlight than had been the last night's knell sounding in darkness. This +was not all. A strange thing had happened: a hawthorn-tree, which had +blossomed in the spring, and which, as usual, had lost its odorous +flowers in the month of June, had blossomed again during the night, and +the Catholics, who saw a miracle in this event, spread the report of the +miracle far and wide, thus making God their accomplice; and with cross +and banners they marched in a procession to the Cemetery of the +Innocents, where this hawthorn-tree was blooming. + +This method of acquiescence which Heaven seemed to show in the massacres +redoubled the ardor of the assassins, and while every street, every +square, every alley-way of the city continued to present a scene of +desolation, the Louvre had become the common tomb for all Protestants +who had been shut up there when the signal was given. The King of +Navarre, the Prince de Condé, and La Mole were the only survivors. + +Assured as to La Mole, whose wounds, as she had declared the evening +before, were severe but not dangerous, Marguerite's mind was now +occupied with one single idea: that was to save her husband's life, +which was still threatened. No doubt the first sentiment which actuated +the wife was one of generous pity for a man for whom, as the Béarnais +himself had said, she had sworn, if not love, at least alliance; but +there was, beside, another sentiment not so pure, which had penetrated +the queen's heart. + +Marguerite was ambitious, and had foreseen almost the certainty of +royalty in her marriage with Henry de Bourbon. Navarre, though beset on +one side by the kings of France and on the other by the kings of Spain, +who strip by strip had absorbed half of its territory, might become a +real kingdom with the French Huguenots for subjects, if only Henry de +Bourbon should fulfil the hopes which the courage shown by him on the +infrequent occasions vouchsafed him of drawing his sword had aroused. + +Marguerite, with her keen, lofty intellect, foresaw and reckoned on all +this. So if she lost Henry she lost not only a husband, but a throne. + +As she was absorbed in these reflections she heard some one knocking at +the door of the secret corridor. She started, for only three persons +came by that door,--the King, the queen mother, and the Duc d'Alençon. +She opened the closet door, made a gesture of silence to Gillonne and La +Mole, and then went to let her visitor in. + +It was the Duc d'Alençon. + +The young prince had not been seen since the night before. For a moment, +Marguerite had conceived the idea of asking his intercession for the +King of Navarre, but a terrible idea restrained her. The marriage had +taken place against his wishes. François detested Henry, and had evinced +his neutrality toward the Béarnais only because he was convinced that +Henry and his wife had remained strangers to each other. A mark of +interest shown by Marguerite in her husband might thrust one of the +three threatening poniards into his heart instead of turning it aside. +Marguerite, therefore, on perceiving the young prince, shuddered more +than she had shuddered at seeing the King or even the queen mother. +Nevertheless no one could have told by his appearance that anything +unusual was taking place either in the city or at the Louvre. He was +dressed with his usual elegance. His clothes and linen breathed of those +perfumes which Charles IX. despised, but of which the Duc d'Anjou and he +made continual use. + +A practised eye like Marguerite's, however, could detect the fact that +in spite of his rather unusual pallor and in spite of a slight trembling +in his hands--delicate hands, as carefully treated as a lady's--he felt +a deep sense of joy in the bottom of his heart. His entrance was in no +wise different from usual. He went to his sister to kiss her, but +Marguerite, instead of offering him her cheek, as she would have done +had it been King Charles or the Duc d'Anjou, made a courtesy and allowed +him to kiss her forehead. + +The Duc d'Alençon sighed and touched his bloodless lips to her brow. + +Then taking a seat he began to tell his sister the sanguinary news of +the night, the admiral's lingering and terrible death, Téligny's +instantaneous death caused by a bullet. He took his time and emphasized +all the bloody details of that night, with that love of blood +characteristic of himself and his two brothers; Marguerite allowed him +to tell his story. + +"You did not come to tell me this only, brother?" she then asked. + +The Duc d'Alençon smiled. + +"You have something else to say to me?" + +"No," replied the duke; "I am waiting." + +"Waiting! for what?" + +"Have you not told me, dearest Marguerite," said the duke, drawing his +armchair close up to his sister's, "that your marriage with the King of +Navarre was contracted against your wishes?" + +"Yes, no doubt. I did not know the Prince of Béarn when he was proposed +to me as a husband." + +"And after you came to know him, did you not tell me that you felt no +love for him?" + +"I told you so; it is true." + +"Was it not your opinion that this marriage would make you unhappy?" + +"My dear François," said Marguerite, "when a marriage is not the height +of happiness it is almost always the depth of wretchedness." + +"Well, then, my dear Marguerite, as I said to you,--I am waiting." + +"But what are you waiting for?" + +"For you to display your joy!" + +"What have I to be joyful for?" + +"The unexpected chance which offers itself for you to resume your +liberty." + +"My liberty?" replied Marguerite, who was determined to compel the +prince to express his whole thought. + +"Yes; your liberty! You will now be separated from the King of Navarre." + +"Separated!" said Marguerite, fastening her eyes on the young prince. + +The Duc d'Alençon tried to endure his sister's look, but his eyes soon +avoided hers with embarrassment. + +"Separated!" repeated Marguerite; "let us talk this over, brother, for I +should like to understand all you mean, and how you propose to separate +us." + +"Why," murmured the duke, "Henry is a Huguenot." + +"No doubt; but he made no secret of his religion, and that was known +when we were married." + +"Yes; but since your marriage, sister," asked the duke, involuntarily +allowing a ray of joy to shine upon his face, "what has Henry been +doing?" + +"Why, you know better than any one, François, for he has spent his days +almost constantly in your society, either hunting or playing mall or +tennis." + +"Yes, his days, no doubt," replied the duke; "his days--but his nights?" + +Marguerite was silent; it was now her turn to cast down her eyes. + +"His nights," persisted the Duc d'Alençon, "his nights?" + +"Well?" inquired Marguerite, feeling that it was requisite that she +should say something in reply. + +"Well, he has been spending them with Madame de Sauve!" + +"How do you know that?" exclaimed Marguerite. + +"I know it because I have an interest in knowing it," replied the young +prince, growing pale and picking the embroidery of his sleeves. + +Marguerite began to understand what Catharine had whispered to Charles, +but pretended to remain in ignorance. + +"Why do you tell me this, brother?" she replied, with a well-affected +air of melancholy; "was it to remind me that no one here loves me or +takes my part, neither those whom nature gave me as protectors nor the +man whom the Church gave me as my husband?" + +"You are unjust," said the Duc d'Alençon, drawing his armchair still +nearer to his sister, "I love you and protect you!" + +"Brother," said Marguerite, looking at him sharply, "have you anything +to say to me from the queen mother?" + +"I! you mistake, sister. I swear to you--what can make you think that?" + +"What can make me think that?--why, because you are breaking off the +intimacy that binds you to my husband, because you are abandoning the +cause of the King of Navarre." + +"The cause of the King of Navarre!" replied the Duc d'Alençon, wholly at +his wits' end. + +"Yes, certainly. Now look here, François; let us speak frankly. You have +come to an agreement a score of times; you cannot raise yourself or even +hold your own except by mutual help. This alliance"-- + +"Has now become impossible, sister," interrupted the Duc d'Alençon. + +"And why so?" + +"Because the King has designs on your husband! Pardon me, when I said +_your husband_, I erred; I meant Henry of Navarre. Our mother has seen +through the whole thing. I entered into an alliance with the Huguenots +because I believed the Huguenots were in favor; but now they are killing +the Huguenots, and in another week there will not remain fifty in the +whole kingdom. I gave my hand to the King of Navarre because he +was--your husband; but now he is not your husband. What can you say to +that--you who are not only the loveliest woman in France, but have the +clearest head in the kingdom?" + +"Why, I have this to say," replied Marguerite, "I know our brother +Charles; I saw him yesterday in one of those fits of frenzy, every one +of which shortens his life ten years. I have to say that unfortunately +these attacks are very frequent, and that thus, in all probability, our +brother Charles has not very long to live; and, finally, I have to say +that the King of Poland has just died, and the question of electing a +prince of the house of France in his stead is much discussed; and when +circumstances are thus, it is not the moment to abandon allies who, in +the moment of struggle, might support us with the strength of a nation +and the power of a kingdom." + +"And you!" exclaimed the duke, "do you not act much more treasonably to +me in preferring a foreigner to your own brother?" + +"Explain yourself, François! In what have I acted treasonably to you?" + +"You yesterday begged the life of the King of Navarre from King +Charles." + +"Well?" said Marguerite, with pretended innocence. + +The duke rose hastily, paced round the chamber twice or thrice with a +bewildered air, then came back and took Marguerite's hand. + +It was cold and unresponsive. + +"Good-by, sister!" he said at last. "You will not understand me; do not, +therefore, complain of whatever misfortunes may happen to you." + +Marguerite grew pale, but remained motionless in her place. She saw the +Duc d'Alençon go away, without making any attempt to detain him; but he +had scarcely more than disappeared down the corridor when he returned. + +"Listen, Marguerite," he said, "I had forgotten to tell you one thing; +that is, that by this time to-morrow the King of Navarre will be dead." + +Marguerite uttered a cry, for the idea that she was the instrument of +assassination caused in her a terror she could not subdue. + +"And you will not prevent his death?" she said; "you will not save your +best and most faithful ally?" + +"Since yesterday the King of Navarre is no longer my ally." + +"Who is, pray?" + +"Monsieur de Guise. By destroying the Huguenots, Monsieur de Guise has +become the king of the Catholics." + +"And does a son of Henry II. recognize a duke of Lorraine as his king?" + +"You are in a bad frame of mind, Marguerite, and you do not understand +anything." + +"I confess that I try in vain to read your thoughts." + +"Sister, you are of as good a house as the Princesse de Porcian; De +Guise is no more immortal than the King of Navarre. Now, then, +Marguerite, suppose three things, three possibilities: first, suppose +monsieur is chosen King of Poland; the second, that you loved me as I +love you; well, I am King of France, and you are--queen of the +Catholics." + +Marguerite hid her face in her hands, overwhelmed at the depth of the +views of this youth, whom no one at court thought possessed of even +common understanding. + +"But," she asked after a moment's silence, "I hope you are not jealous +of Monsieur le Duc de Guise as you were of the King of Navarre!" + +"What is done is done," said the Duc d'Alençon, in a muffled voice, "and +if I had to be jealous of the Duc de Guise, well, then, I was!" + +"There is only one thing that can prevent this capital plan from +succeeding, brother." + +"And what is that?" + +"That I no longer love the Duc de Guise." + +"And whom, pray, do you love?" + +"No one." + +The Duc d'Alençon looked at Marguerite with the astonishment of a man +who takes his turn in failing to understand, and left the room, pressing +his icy hand on his forehead, which ached to bursting. + +Marguerite remained alone and thoughtful; the situation was beginning to +take a clear and definite shape before her eyes; the King had permitted +Saint Bartholomew's, Queen Catharine and the Duc de Guise had put it +into execution. The Duc de Guise and the Duc d'Alençon were about to +join partnership so as to get the greatest possible advantage. The death +of the King of Navarre would be a natural result of this great +catastrophe. With the King of Navarre out of the way, his kingdom would +be seized upon, Marguerite would be left a throneless, impotent widow +with no other prospect before her than a nunnery, where she would not +even have the sad consolation of weeping for a consort who had never +been her husband. + +She was still in the same position when Queen Catharine sent to ask if +she would not like to go with her and the whole court on a pious +visitation to the hawthorn of the Cemetery of the Innocents. +Marguerite's first impulse was to refuse to take part in this cavalcade. +But the thought that this excursion might possibly give her a chance to +learn something new about the King of Navarre's fate decided her to go. +So she sent word that if they would have a palfrey ready for her she +would willingly go with their majesties. + +Five minutes later a page came to ask if she was ready to go down, for +the procession was preparing to start. + +Marguerite warned Gillonne by a gesture to look after the wounded man +and so went downstairs. + +The King, the queen mother, Tavannes, and the principal Catholics were +already mounted. Marguerite cast a rapid glance over the group, which +was composed of about a score of persons; the King of Navarre was not of +the party. + +Madame de Sauve was there. Marguerite exchanged a glance with her, and +was convinced that her husband's mistress had something to tell her. + +They rode down the Rue de l'Astruce and entered into the Rue Saint +Honoré. As the populace caught sight of the King, Queen Catharine, and +the principal Catholics they flocked together and followed the +procession like a rising tide, and shouts rent the air. + +"_Vive le Roi!_" + +"_Vive la Messe._" + +"Death to the Huguenots!" + +These acclamations were accompanied by the waving of ensanguined swords +and smoking arquebuses, which showed the part each had taken in the +awful work just accomplished. + +When they reached the top of the Rue des Prouvelles they met some men +who were dragging a headless carcass. It was the admiral's. The men were +going to hang it by the feet at Montfaucon. + +They entered the Cemetery des Saints Innocents by the gate facing the +Rue des Chaps, now known as the Rue des Déchargeurs; the clergy, +notified in advance of the visit of the King and the queen mother, were +waiting for their majesties to make them speeches. + +Madame de Sauve took advantage of a moment when Catharine was listening +to one of the discourses to approach the Queen of Navarre, and beg leave +to kiss her hand. Marguerite extended her arm toward her, and Madame de +Sauve, as she kissed the queen's hand, slipped a tiny roll of paper up +her sleeve. + +Madame de Sauve drew back quickly and with clever dissimulation; yet +Catharine perceived it, and turned round just as the maid of honor was +kissing Marguerite's hand. + +The two women saw her glance, which penetrated them like a flash of +lightning, but both remained unmoved; only Madame de Sauve left +Marguerite and resumed her place near Catharine. + +When Catharine had finished replying to the address which had just been +made to her she smiled and beckoned the Queen of Navarre to go to her. + +"Eh, my daughter," said the queen mother, in her Italian patois, "so +you are on intimate terms with Madame de Sauve, are you?" + +Marguerite smiled in turn, and gave to her lovely countenance the +bitterest expression she could, and replied: + +"Yes, mother; the serpent came to bite my hand!" + +"Aha!" replied Catharine, with a smile; "you are jealous, I think!" + +"You are mistaken, madame," replied Marguerite; "I am no more jealous of +the King of Navarre than the King of Navarre is in love with me, but I +know how to distinguish my friends from my enemies. I like those that +like me, and detest those that hate me. Otherwise, madame, should I be +your daughter?" + +Catharine smiled so as to make Marguerite understand that if she had had +any suspicion it had vanished. + +Moreover, at that instant the arrival of other pilgrims attracted the +attention of the august throng. + +The Duc de Guise came with a troop of gentlemen all warm still from +recent carnage. They escorted a richly decorated litter, which stopped +in front of the King. + +"The Duchesse de Nevers!" cried Charles IX., "Ah! let that lovely robust +Catholic come and receive our compliments. Why, they tell me, cousin, +that from your own window you have been hunting Huguenots, and that you +killed one with a stone." + +The Duchesse de Nevers blushed exceedingly red. + +"Sire," she said in a low tone, and kneeling before the King, "on the +contrary, it was a wounded Catholic whom I had the good fortune to +rescue." + +"Good--good, my cousin! there are two ways of serving me: one is by +exterminating my enemies, the other is by rescuing my friends. One does +what one can, and I am certain that if you could have done more you +would!" + +While this was going on, the populace, seeing the harmony existing +between the house of Lorraine and Charles IX., shouted exultantly: + +"_Vive le Roi!_" + +"_Vive le Duc de Guise!_" + +"_Vive la Messe!_" + +"Do you return to the Louvre with us, Henriette?" inquired the queen +mother of the lovely duchess. + +Marguerite touched her friend on the elbow, and she, understanding the +sign, replied: + +"No, madame, unless your majesty desire it; for I have business in the +city with her majesty the Queen of Navarre." + +"And what are you going to do together?" inquired Catharine. + +"To see some very rare and curious Greek books found at an old +Protestant pastor's, and which have been taken to the Tower of Saint +Jacques la Boucherie," replied Marguerite. + +"You would do much better to see the last Huguenots flung into the Seine +from the top of the Pont des Meuniers," said Charles IX.; "that is the +place for all good Frenchmen." + +"We will go, if it be your Majesty's desire," replied the Duchesse de +Nevers. + +Catharine cast a look of distrust on the two young women. Marguerite, on +the watch, remarked it, and turning round uneasily, looked about her. + +This assumed or real anxiety did not escape Catharine. + +"What are you looking for?" + +"I am seeking--I do not see"--she replied. + +"Whom are you seeking? Who is it you fail to see?" + +"La Sauve," said Marguerite; "can she have returned to the Louvre?" + +"Did I not say you were jealous?" said Catharine, in her daughter's ear. +"Oh, _bestia_! Come, come, Henriette," she added, shrugging her +shoulders, "begone, and take the Queen of Navarre with you." + +Marguerite pretended to be still looking about her; then, turning to her +friend, she said in a whisper: + +"Take me away quickly; I have something of the greatest importance to +say to you." + +The duchess courtesied to the King and queen mother, and then, bowing +low before the Queen of Navarre: + +"Will your majesty deign to come into my litter?" + +"Willingly, only you will have to take me back to the Louvre." + +"My litter, like my servants and myself, are at your majesty's orders." + +Queen Marguerite entered the litter, while Catharine and her gentlemen +returned to the Louvre just as they had come. But during the route it +was observed that the queen mother kept talking to the King, pointing +several times to Madame de Sauve, and at each time the King laughed--as +Charles IX. laughed; that is, with a laugh more sinister than a threat. + +As soon as Marguerite felt the litter in motion, and had no longer to +fear Catharine's searching eyes, she quickly drew from her sleeve Madame +de Sauve's note and read as follows: + + "_I have received orders to send to-night to the King of Navarre + two keys; one is that of the room in which he is shut up, and the + other is the key of my chamber; when once he has reached my + apartment, I am enjoined to keep him there until six o'clock in the + morning._ + + "_Let your majesty reflect--let your majesty decide. Let your + majesty esteem my life as nothing._" + +"There is now no doubt," murmured Marguerite, "and the poor woman is the +tool of which they wish to make use to destroy us all. But we will see +if the Queen Margot, as my brother Charles calls me, is so easily to be +made a nun of." + +"Tell me, whom is the letter from?" asked the Duchesse de Nevers. + +"Ah, duchess, I have so many things to say to you!" replied Marguerite, +tearing the note into a thousand bits. + + + + +CHAPTER XII. + +MUTUAL CONFIDENCES. + + +"And, first, where are we going?" asked Marguerite; "not to the Pont des +Meuniers, I suppose,--I have seen enough slaughter since yesterday, my +poor Henriette." + +"I have taken the liberty to conduct your majesty"-- + +"First and foremost, my majesty requests you to forget my majesty--you +were taking me"-- + +"To the Hôtel de Guise, unless you decide otherwise." + +"No, no, let us go there, Henriette; the Duc de Guise is not there, your +husband is not there." + +"Oh, no," cried the duchess, her bright emerald eyes sparkling with joy; +"no, neither my husband, nor my brother-in-law, nor any one else. I am +free--free as air, free as a bird,--free, my queen! Do you understand +the happiness there is in that word? I go, I come, I command. Ah, poor +queen, you are not free--and so you sigh." + +"You go, you come, you command. Is that all? Is that all the use of +liberty? You are happy with only freedom as an excuse!" + +"Your majesty promised to tell me a secret." + +"Again 'your majesty'! I shall be angry soon, Henriette. Have you +forgotten our agreement?" + +"No; your respectful servant in public--in private, your madcap +confidante, is it not so, madame? Is it not so, Marguerite?" + +"Yes, yes," said the queen, smiling. + +"No family rivalry, no treachery in love; everything fair, open, and +aboveboard! An offensive and defensive alliance, for the sole purpose of +finding and, if we can, catching on the fly, that ephemeral thing called +happiness." + +"Just so, duchess. Let us again seal the compact with a kiss." + +And the two beautiful women, the one so pale, so full of melancholy, the +other so roseate, so fair, so animated, joined their lips as they had +united their thoughts. + +"Tell me, what is there new?" asked the duchess, giving Marguerite an +eager, inquisitive look. + +"Isn't everything new since day before yesterday?" + +"Oh, I am speaking of love, not of politics. When we are as old as dame +Catharine we will take part in politics; but we are only twenty, my +pretty queen, and so let us talk about something else. Let me see! can +it be that you are really married?" + +"To whom?" asked Marguerite, laughing. + +"Ah! you reassure me, truly!" + +"Well, Henriette, that which reassures you, alarms me. Duchess, I must +be married." + +"When?" + +"To-morrow." + +"Oh, poor little friend! and is it necessary?" + +"Absolutely." + +"_Mordi_! as an acquaintance of mine says, this is very sad." + +"And so you know some one who says _mordi_?" asked Marguerite, with a +smile. + +"Yes." + +"And who is this some one?" + +"You keep asking me questions when I am talking to you. Finish and I +will begin." + +"In two words, it is this: The King of Navarre is in love, and not with +me; I am not in love, but I do not want him, yet we must both of us +change, or seem to change, between now and to-morrow." + +"Well, then, you change, and be very sure he will do the same." + +"That is quite impossible, for I am less than ever inclined to change." + +"Only with respect to your husband, I hope." + +"Henriette, I have a scruple." + +"A scruple! about what?" + +"A religious one. Do you make any difference between Huguenots and +Catholics?" + +"In politics?" + +"Yes." + +"Of course." + +"And in love?" + +"My dear girl, we women are such heathens that we admit every kind of +sect, and recognize many gods." + +"In one, eh?" + +"Yes," replied the duchess, her eyes sparkling; "he who is called +_Eros_, _Cupido_, _Amor_. He who has a quiver on his back, wings on his +shoulders, and a fillet over his eyes. _Mordi, vive la dévotion!_" + +"You have a peculiar method of praying; you throw stones on the heads of +Huguenots." + +"Let us do our duty and let people talk. Ah, Marguerite! how the finest +ideas, the noblest actions, are spoilt in passing through the mouths of +the vulgar!" + +"The vulgar!--why, it was my brother Charles who congratulated you on +your exploits, wasn't it?" + +"Your brother Charles is a mighty hunter blowing the horn all day, and +that makes him very thin. I reject his compliments; besides, I gave him +his answer--didn't you hear what I said?" + +"No; you spoke so low." + +"So much the better. I shall have more news to tell you. Now, then, +finish your story, Marguerite." + +"I was going to say--to say"-- + +"Well?" + +"I was going to say," continued the queen, laughing, "if the stone my +brother spoke of be a fact, I should resist." + +"Ah!" cried Henriette, "so you have chosen a Huguenot, have you? Well, +to reassure your conscience, I promise you that I will choose one myself +on the first opportunity." + +"Ah, so you have chosen a Catholic, have you?" + +"_Mordi_!" replied the duchess. + +"I see, I see." + +"And what is this Huguenot of yours?" + +"I did not choose him. The young man is nothing and probably never will +be anything to me." + +"But what sort is he? You can tell me that; you know how curious I am +about these matters." + +"A poor young fellow, beautiful as Benvenuto Cellini's Nisus,--and he +came and took refuge in my room." + +"Oho!--of course without any suggestion on your part?" + +"Poor fellow! Do not laugh so, Henriette; at this very moment he is +between life and death." + +"He is ill, is he?" + +"He is grievously wounded." + +"A wounded Huguenot is very disagreeable, especially in these times; and +what have you done with this wounded Huguenot, who is not and never will +be anything to you?" + +"He is in my closet; I am concealing him and I want to save him." + +"He is handsome! he is young! he is wounded. You hide him in your +closet; you want to save him. This Huguenot of yours will be very +ungrateful if he is not too grateful." + +"I am afraid he is already--much more so than I could wish." + +"And this poor young man interests you?" + +"From motives of humanity--that's all." + +"Ah, humanity! my poor queen, that is the very virtue that is the ruin +of all of us women." + +"Yes; and you understand: as the King, the Duc d'Alençon, my mother, +even my husband, may at any moment enter my room"-- + +"You want me to hide your little Huguenot as long as he is ill, on +condition I send him back to you when he is cured?" + +"Scoffer!" said Marguerite, "no! I do not lay my plans so far in +advance; but if you could conceal the poor fellow,--if you could +preserve the life I have saved,--I confess I should be most grateful. +You are free at the Hôtel de Guise; you have neither brother-in-law nor +husband to spy on you or constrain you; besides, behind your room there +is a closet like mine into which no one is entitled to enter; so lend me +your closet for my Huguenot, and when he is cured open the cage and let +the bird fly away." + +"There is only one difficulty, my dear queen: the cage is already +occupied." + +"What, have _you_ also saved somebody?" + +"That is exactly what I answered your brother with." + +"Ah, I understand! that's why you spoke so low that I could not hear +you." + +"Listen, Marguerite: it is an admirable story--is no less poetical and +romantic than yours. After I had left you six of my guards, I returned +with the rest to the Hôtel de Guise, and I was watching them pillage and +burn a house separated from my brother's palace only by the Rue des +Quatre Fils, when I heard the voices of men swearing and of women +crying. I went out on the balcony and the first thing I saw was a sword +flashing so brilliantly that it seemed to light up the whole scene. I +was filled with admiration for this fiery sword. I am fond of fine +things, you know! Then naturally enough I tried to distinguish the arm +wielding it and then the body to which the arm belonged. Amid +sword-thrusts and shouts I at last made out the man and I saw--a hero, +an Ajax Telamon. I heard a voice--the voice of a Stentor. My enthusiasm +awoke--I stood there panting, trembling at every blow aimed at him, at +every thrust he parried! That was a quarter hour of emotion such as I +had never before experienced, my queen; and never believed was possible +to experience. So there I was panting, holding my breath, trembling, and +voiceless, when all of a sudden my hero disappeared." + +"How?" + +"Struck down by a stone an old woman threw at him. Then, like Cyrus, I +found my voice, and screamed, 'Help! help!' my guards went out, lifted +him up, and bore him to the room which you want for your _protégé_." + +"Alas, my dear Henriette, I can better understand this story because it +is so nearly my own." + +"With this difference, queen, that as I am serving my King and my +religion, I have no reason to send Monsieur Annibal de Coconnas away." + +"His name is Annibal de Coconnas!" said Marguerite, laughing. + +"A terrible name, is it not? Well, he who bears it is worthy of it. What +a champion he is, by Heaven! and how he made the blood flow! Put on your +mask, my queen, for we are now at the palace." + +"Why put on my mask?" + +"Because I wish to show you my hero." + +"Is he handsome?" + +"He seemed magnificent to me during the conflict. To be sure, it was at +night and he was lighted up by the flames. This morning by daylight I +confess he seemed to me to have lost a little." + +"So then my _protégé_ is rejected at the Hôtel de Guise. I am sorry for +it, for that is the last place where they would look for a Huguenot." + +"Oh, no, your Huguenot shall come; I will have him brought this evening: +one shall sleep in the right-hand corner of the closet and the other in +the left." + +"But when they recognize each other as Protestant and Catholic they will +fight." + +"Oh, there is no danger. Monsieur de Coconnas has had a cut down the +face that prevents him from seeing very well; your Huguenot is wounded +in the chest so that he can't move; and, besides, you have only to tell +him to be silent on the subject of religion, and all will go well." + +"So be it." + +"It's a bargain; and now let us go in." + +"Thanks," said Marguerite, pressing her friend's hand. + +"Here, madame," said the duchess, "you are again 'your majesty;' suffer +me, then, to do the honors of the Hôtel de Guise fittingly for the Queen +of Navarre." + +And the duchess, alighting from the litter, almost knelt on the ground +in helping Marguerite to step down; then pointing to the palace door +guarded by two sentinels, arquebuse in hand, she followed the queen at a +respectful distance, and this humble attitude she maintained as long as +she was in sight. + +As soon as she reached her room, the duchess closed the door, and, +calling to her waiting-woman, a thorough Sicilian, said to her in +Italian, + +"Mica, how is Monsieur le Comte?" + +"Better and better," replied she. + +"What is he doing?" + +"At this moment, madame, he is taking some refreshment." + +"It is always a good sign," said Marguerite, "when the appetite +returns." + +"Ah, that is true. I forgot you were a pupil of Ambroise Paré. Leave us, +Mica." + +"Why do you send her away?" + +"That she may be on the watch." + +Mica left the room. + +"Now," said the duchess, "will you go in to see him, or shall I send for +him here?" + +"Neither the one nor the other. I wish to see him without his seeing +me." + +"What matters it? You have your mask." + +"He may recognize me by my hair, my hands, a jewel." + +"How cautious she is since she has been married, my pretty queen!" + +Marguerite smiled. + +"Well," continued the duchess, "I see only one way." + +"What is that?" + +"To look through the keyhole." + +"Very well! take me to the door." + +The duchess took Marguerite by the hand and led her to a door covered +with tapestry; then bending one knee, she applied her eye to the +keyhole. + +"'Tis all right; he is sitting at table, with his face turned toward us; +come!" + +The queen took her friend's place, and looked through the keyhole; +Coconnas, as the duchess had said, was sitting at a well-served table, +and, despite his wounds, was doing ample justice to the good things +before him. + +"Ah, great heavens!" cried Marguerite, starting back. + +"What is the matter?" asked the duchess in amazement. + +"Impossible!--no!--yes!--on my soul, 'tis the very man!" + +"Who?" + +"Hush," said Marguerite, getting to her feet and seizing the duchess's +hand; "'tis the man who pursued my Huguenot into my room, and stabbed +him in my arms! Oh, Henriette, how fortunate he did not see me!" + +"Well, then, you have seen him fighting; was he not handsome?" + +"I do not know," said Marguerite, "for I was looking at the man he was +pursuing." + +"What is his name?" + +"You will not mention it before the count?" + +"No, I give you my promise!" + +"Lerac de la Mole." + +"And what do you think of him now?" + +"Of Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"No, of Monsieur de Coconnas?" + +"Faith!" said Marguerite, "I confess I think"-- + +She stopped. + +"Come, come," said the duchess, "I see you are angry with him for having +wounded your Huguenot." + +"Why, so far," said Marguerite, laughing, "my Huguenot owes him nothing; +the slash he gave him under his eye"-- + +"They are quits, then, and we can reconcile them. Send me your wounded +man." + +"Not now--by and by." + +"When?" + +"When you have found yours another room." + +"Which?" + +Marguerite looked meaningly at her friend, who, after a moment's +silence, laughed. + +"So be it," said the duchess; "alliance firmer than ever." + +"Friendship ever sincere!" + +"And the word, in case we need each other?" + +"The triple name of your triple god, '_Eros, Cupido, Amor._'" + +And the two princesses separated after one more kiss, and pressing each +other's hand for the twentieth time. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII. + +HOW THERE ARE KEYS WHICH OPEN DOORS THEY ARE NOT MEANT FOR. + + +The Queen of Navarre on her return to the Louvre found Gillonne in great +excitement. Madame de Sauve had been there in her absence. She had +brought a key sent her by the queen mother. It was the key of the room +in which Henry was confined. It was evident that the queen mother for +some purpose of her own wished the Béarnais to spend that night in +Madame de Sauve's apartment. + +Marguerite took the key and turned it over and over; she made Gillonne +repeat Madame de Sauve's every word, weighed them, letter by letter, in +her mind, and at length thought she detected Catharine's plan. + +She took pen and ink, and wrote: + + "_Instead of going to Madame de Sauve to-night, come to the Queen + of Navarre._" + + "_MARGUERITE._" + + +She rolled up the paper, put it in the hollow of the key, and ordered +Gillonne to slip the key under the king's door as soon as it was dark. + +This first duty having been attended to, Marguerite thought of the +wounded man, closed all the doors, entered the closet, and, to her great +surprise, found La Mole dressed in all his clothes, torn and +blood-stained as they were. + +On seeing her he strove to rise, but, still dizzy, could not stand, and +fell back upon the sofa which had served for his bed. + +"What is the matter, sir?" asked Marguerite; "and why do you thus +disobey your physician's orders? I recommended you rest, and instead of +following my advice you do just the contrary." + +"Oh, madame," said Gillonne, "it is not my fault; I have entreated +Monsieur le Comte not to commit this folly, but he declares that nothing +shall keep him any longer at the Louvre." + +"Leave the Louvre!" said Marguerite, gazing with astonishment at the +young man, who cast down his eyes. "Why, it is impossible--you cannot +walk; you are pale and weak; your knees tremble. Only a few hours ago +the wound in your shoulder was still bleeding." + +"Madame," said the young man, "as earnestly as I thanked your majesty +for having given me shelter, as earnestly do I pray you now to suffer me +to depart." + +"I scarcely know what to call such a resolution," said Marguerite; "it +is worse than ingratitude." + +"Oh," cried La Mole, clasping his hands, "think me not ungrateful; my +gratitude will cease only with my life." + +"It will not last long, then," said Marguerite, moved at these words, +the sincerity of which it was impossible to doubt; "for your wounds will +open, and you will die from loss of blood, or you will be recognized for +a Huguenot and killed ere you have gone fifty yards in the street." + +"Nevertheless I must leave the Louvre," murmured La Mole. + +"Must," returned Marguerite, fixing her serene, inscrutable eyes upon +him; then turning rather pale she added, "ah, yes; forgive me, sir, I +understand; doubtless there is some one outside the Louvre who is +anxiously waiting for you. You are right, Monsieur de la Mole; it is +natural, and I understand it. Why didn't you say so at first? or +rather, why didn't I think of it myself? It is duty in the exercise of +hospitality to protect one's guest's affections as well as to cure his +wounds, and to care for the spirit just as one cares for the body." + +"Alas, madame," said La Mole, "you are laboring under a strange mistake. +I am well nigh alone in the world, and altogether so in Paris, where no +one knows me. My assassin is the first man I have spoken to in this +city; your majesty the first woman who has spoken to me." + +"Then," said Marguerite, "why would you go?" + +"Because," replied La Mole, "last night you got no rest, and to-night"-- + +Marguerite blushed. + +"Gillonne," said she, "it is already evening and time to deliver that +key." + +Gillonne smiled, and left the room. + +"But," continued Marguerite, "if you are alone in Paris, without +friends, what will you do?" + +"Madame, I soon shall have friends enough, for while I was pursued I +thought of my mother, who was a Catholic; methought I saw her with a +cross in her hand gliding before me toward the Louvre, and I vowed that +if God should save my life I would embrace my mother's religion. Madame, +God did more than save my life, he sent me one of his angels to make me +love life." + +"But you cannot walk; before you have gone a hundred steps you will +faint away." + +"Madame, I have made the experiment in the closet, I walk slowly and +painfully, it is true; but let me get as far as the Place du Louvre; +once outside, let befall what will." + +Marguerite leaned her head on her hand and sank into deep thought. + +"And the King of Navarre," said she, significantly, "you no longer speak +of him? In changing your religion, have you also changed your desire to +enter his service?" + +"Madame," replied La Mole, growing pale, "you have just hit upon the +actual reason of my departure. I know that the King of Navarre is +exposed to the greatest danger, and that all your majesty's influence as +a daughter of France will barely suffice to save his life." + +"What do you mean, sir," exclaimed Marguerite, "and what danger do you +refer to?" + +"Madame," replied La Mole, with some hesitation, "one can hear +everything from the closet where I am." + +"'Tis true," said Marguerite to herself; "Monsieur de Guise told me so +before." + +"Well," added she, aloud, "what did you hear?" + +"In the first place, the conversation between your majesty and your +brother." + +"With François?" said Marguerite, changing color. + +"Yes, madame, with the Duc d'Alençon; and then after you went out I +heard what Gillonne and Madame de Sauve said." + +"And these two conversations"-- + +"Yes, madame; married scarcely a week, you love your husband; your +husband will come, in his turn, in the same way that the Duc d'Alençon +and Madame de Sauve came. He will confide his secrets to you. Well, +then, I must not overhear them; I should be indiscreet--I cannot--I must +not--I will not be!" + +By the tone in which La Mole uttered these last words, by the anxiety +expressed in his voice, by the embarrassment shown in his eyes, +Marguerite was enlightened as by a sudden revelation. + +"Aha!" said she, "so you have heard everything that has been said in +this room?" + +"Yes, madame." + +These words were uttered in a sigh. + +"And you wish to depart to-night, this evening, to avoid hearing any +more?" + +"This moment, if it please your majesty to allow me to go." + +"Poor fellow!" said Marguerite, with a strange accent of tender pity. + +Astonished by such a gentle reply when he was expecting a rather +forcible outburst, La Mole timidly raised his head; his eyes met +Marguerite's and were riveted as by a magnetic power on their clear and +limpid depths. + +"So then you feel you cannot keep a secret, Monsieur de la Mole?" said +Marguerite in a soft voice as she stood leaning on the back of her +chair, half hidden in the shadow of a thick tapestry and enjoying the +felicity of easily reading his frank and open soul while remaining +impenetrable herself. + +"Madame," said La Mole, "I have a miserable disposition: I distrust +myself, and the happiness of another gives me pain." + +"Whose happiness?" asked Marguerite, smiling. "Ah, yes--the King of +Navarre's! Poor Henry!" + +"You see," cried La Mole, passionately, "he is happy." + +"Happy?" + +"Yes, for your majesty is sorry for him." + +Marguerite crumpled up the silk of her purse and smoothed out the golden +fringe. + +"So then you decline to see the King of Navarre?" said she; "you have +made up your mind; you are decided?" + +"I fear I should be troublesome to his majesty just at the present +time." + +"But the Duc d'Alençon, my brother?" + +"Oh, no, madame!" cried La Mole, "the Duc d'Alençon even still less than +the King of Navarre." + +"Why so?" asked Marguerite, so stirred that her voice trembled as she +spoke. + +"Because, although I am already too bad a Huguenot to be a faithful +servant of the King of Navarre, I am not a sufficiently good Catholic to +be friends with the Duc d'Alençon and Monsieur de Guise." + +This time Marguerite cast down her eyes, for she felt the very depths of +her heart stirred by what he said, and yet she could not have told +whether his reply was meant to give her joy or pain. + +At this moment Gillonne came back. Marguerite asked her a question with +a glance; Gillonne's answer, also conveyed by her eyes, was in the +affirmative. She had succeeded in getting the key to the King of +Navarre. + +Marguerite turned her eyes toward La Mole, who stood before her, his +head drooping on his breast, pale, like one suffering alike in mind and +in body. + +"Monsieur de la Mole is proud," said she, "and I hesitate to make him a +proposition he will doubtless reject." + +La Mole rose, took one step toward Marguerite, and was about to bow low +before her to signify that he was at her service; but an intense, keen, +burning pang forced the tears from his eyes, and conscious that he was +in danger of falling, he clutched a piece of tapestry and clung to it. + +"Don't you see, sir," cried Marguerite, springing to him and supporting +him in her arms, "don't you see that you still need me?" + +A scarcely perceptible movement passed over La Mole's lips. + +"Oh, yes!" he whispered, "like the air I breathe, like the light I see!" + +At this moment three knocks were heard at Marguerite's door. + +"Do you hear, madame?" cried Gillonne, alarmed. + +"Already!" exclaimed Marguerite. + +"Shall I open?" + +"Wait! perhaps it is the King of Navarre." + +"Oh, madame!" cried La Mole, recalled to himself by these words, which +the queen had spoken in such a low tone that she hoped Gillonne only had +heard them, "on my knees I entreat you, let me depart. Yes, dead or +alive! madame, have pity on me! Oh! you do not answer. I will tell you +all, and then you will drive me away, I hope." + +"Be silent," said Marguerite, who found an indescribable charm in the +young man's reproaches; "be silent." + +"Madame," replied La Mole, who did not find that anger he expected in +the voice of the queen, "madame, I tell you again, everything is audible +in this closet. Oh, do not make me perish by tortures more cruel than +the executioner could inflict"-- + +"Silence! silence!" said Marguerite. + +"Oh, madame, you are merciless! you will not hear me, you will not +understand me. Know, then, that I love you"-- + +"Silence! I tell you," interrupted Marguerite, placing on his mouth her +warm, perfumed hand, which he seized between both of his and pressed +eagerly to his lips. + +"But"--he whispered. + +"Be silent, child--who is this rebel that refuses to obey his queen?" + +Then darting out of the closet, she shut the door and stood leaning +against the wall pressing her trembling hand to her heart, as if to +control it. + +"Open, Gillonne." + +Gillonne left the room, and an instant after, the fine, intellectual, +but rather anxious countenance of the King of Navarre appeared behind +the tapestry. + +"You have sent for me, madame?" + +"Yes, sire. Your majesty received my letter?" + +"And not without some surprise, I confess," said Henry, looking round +with distrust, which, however, almost instantly vanished from his mind. + +"And not without some apprehension," added Marguerite. + +"I confess it, madame! But still, surrounded as I am by deadly enemies, +by friends still more dangerous, perhaps, than my open foes, I +recollected that one evening I had seen a noble generosity shining in +your eyes--'twas the night of our marriage; that one other evening I had +seen the star of courage beaming in them--'twas yesterday, the day fixed +for my death." + +"Well, sire?" said Marguerite, smiling, while Henry seemed striving to +read her heart. + +"Well, madame," returned the king, "thinking of these things, I said to +myself, as I read your letter bidding me come: 'Without friends, for he +is a disarmed prisoner, the King of Navarre has but one means of dying +nobly, of dying a death that will be recorded in history. It is to die +betrayed by his wife; and I am come'"-- + +"Sire," replied Marguerite, "you will change your tone when you learn +that all this is the work of a woman who loves you--and whom you love." + +Henry started back at these words, and his keen gray eyes under their +black lashes were fixed on the queen with curiosity. + +"Oh, reassure yourself, sire," said the queen, smiling; "I am not that +person." + +"But, madame," said Henry, "you sent me this key, and this is your +writing." + +"It is my writing, I confess; the letter came from me, but the key is a +different matter. Let it satisfy you to know that it has passed through +the hands of four women before it reached you." + +"Of four women?" exclaimed Henry in astonishment. + +"Yes," said Marguerite; "Queen Catharine's, Madame de Sauve's, +Gillonne's, and mine." + +Henry pondered over this enigma. + +"Now let us talk reasonably, sire," said Marguerite, "and above all let +us speak frankly. Common report has it that your majesty has consented +to abjure. Is it true?" + +"That report is mistaken; I have not yet consented." + +"But your mind is made up?" + +"That is to say, I am deliberating. When one is twenty and almost a +king, _ventre saint gris_! there are many things well worth a mass." + +"And among other things life, for instance!" + +Henry could not repress a fleeting smile. + +"You do not tell me your whole thought," said Marguerite. + +"I have reservations for my allies, madame; and you know we are but +allies as yet; if indeed you were both my ally--and"-- + +"And your wife, sire?" + +"Faith! yes, and my wife"-- + +"What then?" + +"Why, then, it might be different, and I perhaps might resolve to remain +King of the Huguenots, as they call me. But as it is, I must be content +to live." + +Marguerite looked at Henry in such a peculiar manner that it would have +awakened suspicion in a less acute mind than his. + +"And are you quite sure of succeeding even in that?" she asked. + +"Why, almost; but you know, in this world nothing is certain." + +"It is true," replied Marguerite, "your majesty shows such moderation +and professes such disinterestedness, that after having renounced your +crown, after having renounced your religion, you will probably renounce +your alliance with a daughter of France; at least this is hoped for." + +These words bore a significance which sent a thrill through Henry's +whole frame; but instantaneously repressing the emotion, he said: + +"Deign to recollect, madame, that at this moment I am not my own master; +I shall therefore do what the King of France orders me. If I were +consulted the least in the world on this question, affecting as it does +my throne, my honor, and my life, rather than build my future on this +forced marriage of ours, I should prefer to enter a monastery or turn +gamekeeper." + +This calm resignation, this renunciation of the world, alarmed +Marguerite. She thought perhaps this rupture of the marriage had been +agreed upon by Charles IX., Catharine, and the King of Navarre. Why +should she not be taken as a dupe or a victim? Because she was sister of +the one and daughter of the other? Experience had taught her that this +relationship gave her no ground on which to build her security. + +So ambition was gnawing at this young woman's, or rather this young +queen's heart, and she was too far above vulgar frailties to be drawn +into any selfish meanness; in the case of every woman, however mediocre +she may be, when she loves her love has none of these petty trials, for +true love is also an ambition. + +"Your majesty," said Marguerite, with a sort of mocking disdain, "has no +confidence in the star that shines over the head of every king!" + +"Ah," said Henry, "I vainly look for mine now, I cannot see it; 'tis +hidden by the storm which now threatens me!" + +"And suppose a woman's breath were to dispel this tempest, and make the +star reappear, brilliant as ever?" + +"'Twere difficult." + +"Do you deny the existence of this woman?" + +"No, I deny her power." + +"You mean her will?" + +"I said her power, and I repeat, her power. A woman is powerful only +when love and interest are combined within her in equal degrees; if +either sentiment predominates, she is, like Achilles, vulnerable; now as +to this woman, if I mistake not, I cannot rely on her love." + +Marguerite made no reply. + +"Listen," said Henry; "at the last stroke of the bell of Saint Germain +l'Auxerrois you must have thought of regaining your liberty, sacrificed +for the purpose of destroying my followers. My concern was to save my +life: that was the most essential thing. We lose Navarre, indeed; but +what is that compared with your being enabled to speak aloud in your +room, which you dared not do when you had some one listening to you in +yonder closet?" + +Deeply absorbed as she was in her thoughts, Marguerite could not refrain +from smiling. The king rose and prepared to seek his own apartment, for +it was some time after eleven, and every one at the Louvre was, or +seemed to be, asleep. + +Henry took three steps toward the door, then suddenly stopped as if for +the first time recollecting the motive of his visit to the queen. + +"By the way, madame," said he, "had you not something to communicate to +me? or did you desire to give me an opportunity of thanking you for the +reprieve which your brave presence in the King's armory brought me? In +truth it was just in time, madame; I cannot deny it, you appeared like a +goddess of antiquity, in the nick of time to save my life." + +"Unfortunate man!" cried Marguerite, in a muffled voice, and seizing her +husband's arm, "do you not see that nothing is saved, neither your +liberty, your crown, nor your life? Infatuated madman! Poor madman! Did +you, then, see nothing in my letter but a rendezvous? Did you believe +that Marguerite, indignant at your coldness, desired reparation?" + +"I confess, madame," said Henry in astonishment, "I confess"-- + +Marguerite shrugged her shoulders with an expression impossible to +describe. + +At this instant a strange sound was heard, like a sharp insistent +scratching at the secret door. + +Marguerite led the king toward the little door. + +"Listen," said she. + +"The queen mother is leaving her room," said a trembling voice outside, +which Henry instantly recognized as Madame de Sauve's. + +"Where is she going?" asked Marguerite. + +"She is coming to your majesty." + +And then the rustling of a silk gown, growing fainter, showed that +Madame de Sauve was hastening rapidly away. + +"Oho!" exclaimed Henry. + +"I was sure of this," said Marguerite. + +"And I," replied Henry, "feared it, and this is the proof of it." + +And half opening his black velvet doublet, he showed the queen that he +had beneath it a shirt of mail, and a long Milan poniard, which +instantly glittered in his hand like a viper in the sun. + +"As if you needed weapon and cuirass here!" cried Marguerite. "Quick, +quick, sire! conceal that dagger; 'tis the queen mother, indeed, but the +queen mother only." + +"Yet"-- + +"Silence!--I hear her." + +And putting her mouth close to Henry's ear, she whispered something +which the young king heard with attention mingled with astonishment. +Then he hid himself behind the curtains of the bed. + +Meantime, with the quickness of a panther, Marguerite sprang to the +closet, where La Mole was waiting in a fever of excitement, opened the +door, found the young man, and pressing his hand in the +darkness--"Silence," said she, approaching her lips so near that he felt +her warm and balmy breath; "silence!" + +Then returning to her chamber, she tore off her head-dress, cut the +laces of her dress with her poniard, and sprang into bed. + +It was time--the key turned in the lock. Catharine had a key for every +door in the Louvre. + +"Who is there?" cried Marguerite, as Catharine placed on guard at the +door the four gentlemen by whom she was attended. + +And, as if frightened by this sudden intrusion into her chamber, +Marguerite sprang out from behind the curtains of her bed in a white +dressing-gown, and then recognizing Catharine, came to kiss her hand +with such well-feigned surprise that the wily Florentine herself could +not help being deceived by it. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV. + +THE SECOND MARRIAGE NIGHT. + + +The queen mother cast a marvellously rapid glance around her. The velvet +slippers at the foot of the bed, Marguerite's clothes scattered over the +chairs, the way she rubbed her eyes as if to drive away her sleepiness, +all convinced Catharine that she had awakened her daughter. + +Then she smiled as a woman does when she has succeeded in her plans, and +drawing up an easy chair, she said: + +"Let us sit down, Marguerite, and talk." + +"Madame, I am listening." + +"It is time," said Catharine, slowly shutting her eyes in the +characteristic way of people who weigh each word or who deeply +dissimulate, "it is time, my daughter, that you should know how ardently +your brother and myself desire to see you happy." + +This exordium for one who knew Catharine was alarming. + +"What can she be about to say?" thought Marguerite. + +"To be sure," continued La Florentine, "in giving you in marriage we +fulfilled one of those acts of policy frequently required by important +interests of those who govern; but I must confess, my poor child, that +we had no expectation that the indifference manifested by the King of +Navarre for one so young, so lovely, and so fascinating as yourself +would be so obstinate." + +Marguerite arose, and folding her robe de chambre around her, courtesied +with ceremonious respect to her mother. + +"I have heard to-night only," continued Catharine, "otherwise I should +have paid you an earlier visit, that your husband is far from showing +you those attentions you have a right to claim, not merely as a +beautiful woman, but as a princess of France." + +Marguerite sighed, and Catharine, encouraged by this mute approval, +proceeded. + +"In fact, that the King of Navarre is openly cohabiting one of my maids +of honor who is scandalously smitten with him, that he scorns the love +of the woman graciously given to him, is an insult to which we poor +powerful ones of the earth cannot apply a remedy, and yet the meanest +gentleman in our kingdom would avenge it by calling out his son-in-law +or having his son do so." + +Marguerite dropped her head. + +"For some time, my daughter," Catharine went on to say, "I have seen by +your reddened eyes, by your bitter sallies against La Sauve, that in +spite of your efforts your heart must show external signs of its +bleeding wound." + +Marguerite trembled: a slight movement had shaken the curtains; but +fortunately Catharine did not notice it. + +"This wound," said she with affectionate sweetness redoubled, "this +wound, my daughter, a mother's hand must cure. Those who with the +intention of securing your happiness have brought about your marriage, +and who in their anxiety about you notice that every night Henry of +Navarre goes to the wrong rooms; those who cannot allow a kinglet like +him to insult a woman of such beauty, of such high rank, and so worthy, +by scorning your person and neglecting his chances of posterity; those +who see that at the first favorable wind, this wild and insolent madcap +will turn against our family and expel you from his house--I say have +not they the right to secure your interests by entirely dividing them +from his, so that your future may be better suited to yourself and your +rank?" + +"And yet, madame," replied Marguerite, "in spite of these observations +so replete with maternal love, and filling me with joy and pride, I am +bold enough to affirm to your majesty that the King of Navarre is my +husband." + +Catharine started with rage, and drawing closer to Marguerite she said: + +"He, your husband? Is it sufficient to make you husband and wife that +the Church has pronounced its blessing upon you? And is the marriage +consecration only in the words of the priest? He, your husband? Ah, my +daughter! if you were Madame de Sauve you might give me this reply. But +wholly contrary of what we expected of him since you granted Henry of +Navarre the honor of calling you his wife, he has given all your rights +to another woman, and at this very instant even," said Catharine, +raising her voice,--"this key opens the door of Madame de Sauve's +apartment--come with me and you will see"-- + +"Oh, not so loud, madame, not so loud, I beseech you!" said Marguerite, +"for not only are you mistaken, but"-- + +"Well?" + +"Well, you will awaken my husband!" + +As she said these words Marguerite arose with a perfectly voluptuous +grace, her white dress fluttering loosely around her, while the large +open sleeves displayed her bare and faultlessly modelled arm and truly +royal hand, and taking a rose-colored taper she held it near the bed, +and drawing back the curtain, and smiling significantly at her mother, +pointed to the haughty profile, the black locks, and the parted lips of +the King of Navarre, who, as he lay upon the disordered bed, seemed +buried in profound repose. + +Pale, with haggard eyes, her body thrown back as if an abyss had opened +at her feet, Catharine uttered not a cry, but a hoarse bellow. + +"You see, madame," said Marguerite, "you were misinformed." + +Catharine looked first at Marguerite, then at Henry. In her active mind +she combined Marguerite's smile with the picture of that pale and dewy +brow, those eyes circled by dark-colored rings, and she bit her thin +lips in silent fury. + +Marguerite allowed her mother for a moment to contemplate this picture, +which affected her like the head of Medusa. Then she dropped the curtain +and stepping on her tip-toes she came back to Catharine and sat down: + +"You were saying, madame?"-- + +The Florentine for several seconds tried to fathom the young woman's +naïveté; but as if her keen glance had become blunted on Marguerite's +calmness, she exclaimed, "Nothing," and hastily left the room. + +As soon as the sound of her departing footsteps had died away down the +long corridor, the bed-curtains opened a second time, and Henry, with +sparkling eyes, trembling hand, and panting breath, came out and knelt +at Marguerite's feet; he was dressed only in his short-clothes and his +coat of mail, so that Marguerite, seeing him in such an odd rig, could +not help laughing even while she was warmly shaking hands with him. + +"Ah, madame! ah, Marguerite!" he cried, "how shall I ever repay you?" + +And he covered her hand with kisses which gradually strayed higher up +along her arm. + +"Sire," said she, gently retreating, "can you forget that a poor woman +to whom you owe your life is mourning and suffering on your account? +Madame de Sauve," added she, in a lower tone, "has forgotten her +jealousy in sending you to me; and to that sacrifice she may probably +have to add her life, for you know better than any one how terrible is +my mother's anger!" + +Henry shuddered; and, rising, started to leave the room. + +"Upon second thoughts," said Marguerite, with admirable coquetry, "I +have thought it all over and I see no cause for alarm. The key was given +to you without any directions, and it will be supposed that you granted +me the preference for to-night." + +"And so I do, Marguerite! Consent but to forget"-- + +"Not so loud, sire, not so loud!" replied the queen, employing the same +words she had a few minutes before used to her mother; "any one in the +adjoining closet can hear you. And as I am not yet quite free, I will +ask you to speak in a lower tone." + +"Oho!" said Henry, half smiling, half gloomily, "that's true! I was +forgetting that I am probably not the one destined to play the end of +this interesting scene! This closet"-- + +"Let me beg of your majesty to enter there," said Marguerite; "for I am +desirous of having the honor of presenting to you a worthy gentleman, +wounded during the massacre while making his way to the Louvre to +apprise your majesty of the danger with which you were threatened." + +The queen went toward the door, and Henry followed her. She opened it, +and the king was thunderstruck at beholding a man in this cabinet, fated +to reveal such continued surprises. + +But La Mole was still more surprised at thus unexpectedly finding +himself in the presence of Henry of Navarre. The result was that the +king cast an ironical glance on Marguerite, who bore it without +flinching. + +"Sire," said she, "I am in dread lest this gentleman may be murdered +even here, in my very chamber; he is devoted to your majesty's service, +and for that reason I commend him to your royal protection." + +"Sire," continued the young man, "I am the Comte Lerac de la Mole, whom +your majesty was expecting; I was recommended to you by that poor +Monsieur de Téligny, who was killed by my side." + +"Aha!" replied Henry; "you are right, sir. The queen gave me his letter; +but have you not also a letter from the governor of Languedoc?" + +"Yes, sire, and I was recommended to deliver it to your majesty as soon +as I arrived." + +"Why did you not do so?" + +"Sire, I hastened to the Louvre last evening, but your majesty was too +much occupied to give me audience." + +"True!" answered the king; "but I should think you might have sent the +letter to me?" + +"I had orders from Monsieur d'Auriac to give it to no one else but your +majesty, since it contained, he said, information so important that he +feared to entrust it to any ordinary messenger." + +"The contents are, indeed, of a serious nature," said the king, when he +had received and read the letter; "advising my instant withdrawal from +the court of France, and retirement to Béarn. M. d'Auriac, although a +Catholic, was always a stanch friend of mine; and it is possible that, +acting as governor of a province, he got scent of what was in the wind +here. _Ventre saint gris_! monsieur! why was not this letter given to me +three days ago, instead of now?" + +"Because, as I before assured your majesty, that using all the speed and +diligence in my power, it was wholly impossible to arrive before +yesterday." + +"That is very unfortunate, very unfortunate," murmured the king; "we +should then have been in security, either at Rochelle or in some broad +plain surrounded by two or three thousand trusty horsemen." + +"Sire, what is done is done," said Marguerite, in a low voice, "and +instead of wasting your time complaining over the past you must do the +best possible with the future." + +"If you were in my place, madame," replied Henry, with his questioning +look, "you would still have hope, would you?" + +"Certainly I should; I should consider myself as playing a game of three +points, of which I had lost only the first." + +"Ah, madame," whispered Henry, "if I dared but hope that you would go +partners with me in the game"-- + +"If I had intended to side with your adversaries," replied Marguerite, +"I should scarcely have delayed so long." + +"True!" replied Henry, "and I am ungrateful; and as you say, the past +may still be repaired." + +"Alas! sire," said La Mole, "I wish your majesty every kind of good +fortune; but now the admiral is no more." + +Over Henry's face passed that sly, peasant-like smile, which was not +understood at court until after he became King of France. + +"But, madame," said the king, attentively observing La Mole, "this +gentleman cannot remain here without causing you considerable +inconvenience, and being himself subject to very unpleasant surprises. +What will you do with him?" + +"Could we not remove him from the Louvre?" asked Marguerite, "for I +entirely agree with you!" + +"It will be difficult." + +"Then could not Monsieur de la Mole find accommodation in your majesty's +apartments?" + +"Alas, madame! you speak as if I were still King of the Huguenots, and +had subjects to command. You are aware that I am half converted to the +Catholic faith and have no people at all." + +Any one but Marguerite would have promptly answered: "He is a Catholic." + +But the queen wished Henry himself to ask her to do the very thing she +was desirous of effecting; while La Mole, perceiving his protectress's +caution and not knowing where to set foot on the slippery ground of such +a dangerous court as that of France, remained perfectly silent. + +"But what is this the governor says in his letter?" said Henry, again +casting his eyes over the missive he held in his hand. "He states that +your mother was a Catholic, and from that circumstance originates the +interest he felt in you." + +"And what were you telling me, Monsieur le Comte," said Marguerite, +"respecting a vow you had formed to change your religion? I confess my +recollection on the subject is somewhat confused. Have the goodness to +assist me, M. de la Mole. Did not your conversation refer to something +of the nature the king appears to desire?" + +"Alas! madame, what I did say was so coldly received by your majesty +that I did not dare"-- + +"Simply because it in no way concerned me," answered Marguerite. "But +explain yourself to the king--explain!" + +"Well, what was the vow?" asked the king. + +"Sire," said La Mole, "when pursued by assassins, myself unarmed, and +almost expiring from my two wounds, I fancied I beheld my mother's +spirit holding a cross in her hands and guiding me to the Louvre. Then I +vowed that if my life were preserved I would adopt the religion of my +mother, who had been permitted to leave her grave to direct me to a +place of safety during that horrible night. Heaven conducted me here, +sire. I find myself here under the protection of a princess of France +and of the King of Navarre; my life was miraculously saved, therefore I +must fulfil my vow. I am ready to become a Catholic." + +Henry frowned. Sceptic that he was, he could well understand a change of +religion from motives of interest, but he distrusted abjuration through +faith. + +"The king does not want to take charge of my _protégé_," thought +Marguerite. + +La Mole still remained mute and awkward between the two opposing wills. +He felt, without being able to define why, that he was in a ridiculous +position. Marguerite's womanly tact came to his relief. + +"Sire," said she, "we forget that the poor wounded gentleman has need of +repose. I myself am half asleep. Ah, see!" + +La Mole did indeed turn pale; but it was at Marguerite's last words, +which he had interpreted according to his own ideas. + +"Well, madame," answered Henry, "nothing can be simpler. Can we not +leave Monsieur de la Mole to take his repose." + +The young man fixed a supplicating look on Marguerite, and, in spite of +the presence of the two majesties, sunk upon a chair, overcome with +fatigue and pain. + +Marguerite understood all the love in his look, all the despair in his +weakness. + +"Sire," said she, "your majesty is bound to confer on this young man, +who imperilled his life for his king, since he received his wounds while +coming hither to inform you of the admiral's death and Téligny's,--your +majesty is bound, I repeat, to confer on him an honor for which he will +be grateful all his life long." + +"What is it, madame?" asked Henry. "Command me, I am ready." + +"Monsieur de la Mole must sleep to-night at your majesty's feet, while +you, sire, can sleep on this couch. With the permission of my august +spouse," added Marguerite, smiling, "I will summon Gillonne and return +to bed, for I assure you I am not the least wearied of us three." + +Henry had shrewd sense and a quick perception of things; friends and +enemies subsequently found fault with him for possessing too much of +both. He fully admitted that she who thus banished him from the nuptial +bed was well justified in so doing by the indifference he had himself +manifested toward her; and then, too, she had just repaid this +indifference by saving his life; he therefore allowed no self-love to +dictate his answer. + +"Madame," said he, "if Monsieur de la Mole were able to come to my +quarters I would give him my own bed." + +"Yes," replied Marguerite, "but your quarters just at the present time +would not be safe for either of you, and prudence dictates that your +majesty should remain here until morning." + +Then without awaiting the king's reply she summoned Gillonne, and bade +her prepare the necessary cushions for the king, and to arrange a bed at +the king's feet for La Mole, who appeared so happy and contented with +the honor that one would have sworn he no longer felt his wounds. + +Then Marguerite, courtesing low to the king, passed into her chamber, +the door of which was well furnished with bolts, and threw herself on +the bed. + +"One thing is certain," said Marguerite to herself, "to-morrow Monsieur +de la Mole must have a protector at the Louvre; and he who, to-night, +sees and hears nothing, may change his mind to-morrow." + +Then she called Gillonne, who was waiting to receive her last orders. + +Gillonne came to her. + +"Gillonne," said she in a whisper, "you must contrive to bring my +brother the Duc d'Alençon here to-morrow morning before eight o'clock." + +It was just striking two at the Louvre. + +La Mole for a few moments talked on political subjects with the king, +who gradually grew drowsy and was soon snoring. + +La Mole might have slept as well as the king, but Marguerite was not +asleep; she kept turning from side to side in her bed, and the noise she +made disturbed the young man's ideas and sleep. + +"He is very young," murmured Marguerite in her wakeful mood, "he is very +timid; perhaps--but we must see--perhaps it will be ridiculous. Yet he +has handsome eyes--and a good figure, and he is very charming; but if he +should not turn out to be brave!--He ran away!--He is renouncing his +faith! It is too bad--the dream began well. However, let things take +their course and entrust them to that madcap Henriette's triple god." + +And toward daybreak Marguerite fell asleep, murmuring: + +"_Eros, Cupido, Amor._" + + + + +CHAPTER XV. + +WHAT WOMAN WILLS, GOD WILLS. + + +Marguerite was not mistaken: the wrath distilled in the depths of +Catharine's heart at sight of this comedy, the intrigue of which she +followed without being in any way able to change its denouement, +required a victim. So instead of going directly to her own room the +queen mother proceeded to that of her lady in waiting. + +Madame de Sauve was in expectation of two visits--one she hoped to +receive from Henry, and the other she feared was in store for her from +the queen mother. As she lay in her bed only partially undressed, while +Dariole kept watch in the antechamber, she heard a key turn in the lock, +and then slowly approaching footsteps which would have seemed heavy if +they had not been deadened by thick rugs. She did not recognize Henry's +light, eager step; she suspected that Dariole was prevented from coming +to warn her, and so leaning on her elbow she waited with eye and ear +alert. The portière was lifted and the trembling young woman saw +Catharine de Médicis appear. + +Catharine seemed calm; but Madame de Sauve, accustomed for two years to +study her, well knew what dark designs, and possibly cruel vengeance, +might be concealed beneath that apparent calm. + +At sight of Catharine, Madame de Sauve was about to spring from her bed, +but Catharine signed to her to stay where she was; and poor Charlotte +was fixed to the spot, inwardly endeavoring to collect all the forces of +her soul to endure the storm which was silently gathering. + +"Did you convey the key to the King of Navarre?" inquired Catharine, +without the tone of her voice betraying any change; and yet as she spoke +her lips grew paler and paler. + +"I did, madame," answered Charlotte, in a voice which she vainly tried +to make as firm and assured as Catherine's was. + +"And have you seen him?" + +"Who?" asked Madame de Sauve. + +"The King of Navarre." + +"No, madame; but I am expecting him, and when I heard the key turn in +the lock, I firmly believed it was he." + +At this answer, which indicated either perfect confidence or deep +dissimulation on Madame de Sauve's part, Catharine could not repress a +slight shiver. She clinched her short plump hand. + +"And yet you knew perfectly well," said she with her evil smile, "you +knew perfectly well, Carlotta, that the King of Navarre would not come +to-night." + +"I, madame? I knew that?" exclaimed Charlotte, with a tone of surprise +perfectly well assumed. + +"Yes, you knew it!" + +"If he does not come, he must be dead!" replied the young woman, +shuddering at the mere supposition. + +What gave Charlotte the courage to lie so was the certainty that she +would suffer from a terrible vengeance if her little treason should be +discovered. + +"But did you not write to the king, Carlotta mia?" inquired Catharine, +with the same cruel and silent laugh. + +"No, madame," answered Charlotte, with well-assumed naïveté, "I cannot +recollect receiving your majesty's commands to do so." + +A short silence followed, during which Catharine continued to gaze on +Madame de Sauve as the serpent looks at the bird it wishes to fascinate. + +"You think you are pretty," said Catharine, "you think you are clever, +do you not?" + +"No, madame," answered Charlotte; "I only know that sometimes your +majesty has been graciously pleased to commend both my personal +attractions and address." + +"Well, then," said Catharine, growing eager and animated, "you were +mistaken if you think so, and I lied when I told you so; you are a +simpleton and hideous compared to my daughter Margot." + +"Oh, madame," replied Charlotte, "that is a fact I will not even try to +deny--least of all in your presence." + +"So, then, the King of Navarre prefers my daughter to you; a +circumstance, I presume, not to your wishes, and certainly not what we +agreed should be the case." + +"Alas, madame," cried Charlotte, bursting into a torrent of tears which +now flowed from no feigned source, "if it be so, I can but say I am very +unfortunate!" + +"It is so," said Catharine, darting the two-fold keenness of her eyes +like a double poniard into Madame de Sauve's heart. + +"But who can make you believe that?" asked Charlotte. + +"Go down to the Queen of Navarre's _pazza_, and you will find your lover +there!" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Madame de Sauve. + +Catharine shrugged her shoulders. + +"Are you jealous, pray?" asked the queen mother. + +"I?" exclaimed Madame de Sauve, recalling her fast-failing strength. + +"Yes, you! I should like to see a Frenchwoman's jealousy." + +"But," said Madame de Sauve, "how should your majesty expect me to be +jealous except out of vanity? I love the King of Navarre only as far as +your majesty's service requires it." + +Catharine gazed at her for a moment with dreamy eyes. + +"What you tell me may on the whole be true," she murmured. + +"Your majesty reads my heart." + +"And your heart is wholly devoted to me?" + +"Command me, madame, and you shall judge for yourself." + +"Well, then, Carlotta, since you are ready to sacrifice yourself in my +service, you must still continue for my sake to be in love with the King +of Navarre and, above all, to be very jealous,--jealous as an Italian +woman." + +"But, madame," asked Charlotte, "how does an Italian woman show her +jealousy?" + +"I will tell you," replied Catharine, and after nodding her head two or +three times she left the room as deliberately and noiselessly as she had +come in. + +Charlotte, confused by the keen look of those eyes dilated like a cat's +or a panther's without thereby losing anything of their inscrutability, +allowed her to go without uttering a single word, without even letting +her breathing be heard, and she did not even take a respiration until +she heard the door close behind her and Dariole came to say that the +terrible apparition had departed. + +"Dariole," said she, "draw up an armchair close to my bed and spend the +night in it. I beg you to do so, for I should not dare to stay alone." + +Dariole obeyed; but in spite of the company of her faithful attendant, +who stayed near her, in spite of the light from the lamp which she +commanded to be left burning for the sake of greater tranquillity, +Madame de Sauve also did not fall asleep till daylight, so insistently +rang in her ears the metallic accent of Catharine's voice. + + * * * * * + +Though Marguerite had not fallen asleep till daybreak she awoke at the +first blast of the trumpets, at the first barking of the dogs. She +instantly arose and began to put on a costume so negligent that it could +not fail to attract attention. Then she summoned her women, and had the +gentlemen ordinarily in attendance on the King of Navarre shown into her +antechamber, and finally opening the door which shut Henry and De la +Mole into the same room, she gave the count an affectionate glance and +addressing her husband she said: + +"Come, sire, it is not sufficient to have made madame my mother believe +in what is not; it still remains for you to convince your whole court +that a perfect understanding exists between us. But make yourself quite +easy," added she, laughing, "and remember my words, rendered almost +solemn by the circumstances. To-day will be the last time that I shall +put your majesty to such a cruel test." + +The King of Navarre smiled and ordered his gentlemen to be admitted. + +Just as they were bowing to him he pretended suddenly to recollect +having left his mantle on the queen's bed and begged their excuse for +receiving them in such a way; then, taking his mantle from the hands of +Marguerite, who stood blushing by his side, he clasped it on his +shoulder. Next, turning to his gentlemen, he inquired what news there +was in the city and at court. + +Marguerite was engaged in watching out of the corner of her eye the +imperceptible signs of astonishment betrayed by the gentlemen at +detecting this newly revealed intimacy between the king and queen of +Navarre, when an usher entered, followed by three or four gentlemen, and +announced the Duc d'Alençon. + +To bring him there Gillonne had only to tell him that the king had spent +the night in the queen's room. + +François rushed in so precipitately that he almost upset those who +preceded him. His first glance was for Henry; his next was for +Marguerite. + +Henry replied with a courteous bow; Marguerite composed her features so +that they expressed the utmost serenity. + +Then the duke cast a vague but scrutinizing look around the whole room: +he saw the two pillows placed at the head of the bed, the derangement of +its tapestried coverings, and the king's hat thrown on a chair. + +He turned pale, but quickly recovering himself, he said: + +"Does my royal brother Henry join this morning with the King in his game +of tennis?" + +"Does his Majesty do me the honor to select me as his partner?" inquired +Henry, "or is it only a little attention on your part, my +brother-in-law?" + +"His Majesty has not so said, certainly," replied the duke, somewhat +embarrassed; "but don't you generally play with him?" + +Henry smiled, for so many and such serious events had occurred since he +last played with the King that he would not have been astonished to +learn that the King had changed his habitual companions at the game. + +"I shall go there," said Henry, with a smile. + +"Come," cried the duke. + +"Are you going away?" inquired Marguerite. + +"Yes, sister!" + +"Are you in great haste?" + +"In great haste." + +"Might I venture to detain you for a few minutes?" + +Such a request was so unusual coming from Marguerite that her brother +looked at her while her color came and went. + +"What can she be going to say to him?" thought Henry, no less surprised +than the duke himself. + +Marguerite, as if she had guessed her husband's thought, turned toward +him. + +"Sire," said she, with a charming smile, "you may go back to his majesty +if it seem good to you, for the secret which I am going to reveal to my +brother is already known to you, for the reason that the request which I +made you yesterday in regard to this secret was as good as refused by +your majesty. I should not wish, therefore," continued Marguerite, "to +weary your majesty a second time by expressing in your presence a wish +which seemed to be disagreeable." + +"What do you mean?" asked François, looking at both of them with +astonishment. + +"Aha!" exclaimed Henry, flushing, with indignation, "I know what you +mean, madame. In truth, I regret that I am not free. But if I cannot +offer Monsieur de la Mole such hospitality as would be equivalent to an +assurance, I cannot do less than to recommend to my brother D'Alençon +the person _in whom you feel such a lively interest_. Perhaps," he +added, in order to give still more emphasis to the words italicized, +"perhaps my brother will discover some way whereby you will be permitted +to keep Monsieur de la Mole here near you--that would be better than +anything else, would it not, madame?" + +"Come, come!" said Marguerite to herself, "the two together will do what +neither of them would do individually." + +And she opened the closet door and invited the wounded young man to come +forth, saying to Henry as she did so: + +"Your majesty must now explain to my brother why we are interested in +Monsieur de la Mole." + +Henry, caught in the snare, briefly related to M. d'Alençon, half a +Protestant for the sake of opposition, as he himself was partly a +Catholic from prudence, the arrival of Monsieur de la Mole at Paris, and +how the young man had been severely wounded while bringing to him a +letter from M. d'Auriac. + +When the duke turned round, La Mole had come out from the closet and was +standing before him. + +François, at the sight of him, so handsome, so pale, and consequently +doubly captivating by reason of his good looks and his pallor, felt a +new sense of distrust spring up in the depths of his soul. Marguerite +held him both through jealousy and through pride. + +"Brother," said Marguerite, "I will engage that this young gentleman +will be useful to whoever may employ him. Should you accept his +services, he will obtain a powerful protector, and you, a devoted +servitor. In such times as the present, brother," continued she, "we +cannot be too well surrounded by devoted friends; more especially," +added she, lowering her voice so as to be heard by no one but the duke, +"when one is ambitious, and has the misfortune to be only third in the +succession to the throne." + +Then she put her finger on her lip, to intimate to François that in +spite of the initiation she still kept secret an important part of her +idea. + +"Perhaps," she added, "you may differ from Henry, in considering it not +befitting that this young gentleman should remain so immediately in the +vicinity of my apartments." + +"Sister," replied François, eagerly, "if it meet your wishes, Monsieur +de la Mole shall, in half an hour, be installed in my quarters, where, I +think, he can have no cause to fear any danger. Let him love me and I +will love him." + +François was untruthful, for already in the very depths of his heart he +detested La Mole. + +"Well, well! So then I was not mistaken," said Marguerite to herself, +seeing the King of Navarre's scowling face. "Ah, I see that to lead you +two, one must lead the other." + +Then finishing her thought: + +"There! 'then you are doing well, Marguerite,' Henriette would say." + +In fact, half an hour later La Mole, having been solemnly catechised by +Marguerite, kissed the hem of her gown and with an agility remarkable in +a wounded man was mounting the stairs that led to the Duc d'Alençon's +quarters. + + * * * * * + +Two or three days passed, during which the excellent understanding +between Henry and his wife seemed to grow more and more firmly +established. + +Henry had obtained permission not to make a public renunciation of his +religion; but he had formally recanted in the presence of the king's +confessor, and every morning he listened to the mass performed at the +Louvre. At night he made a show of going to his wife's rooms, entered by +the principal door, talked a few minutes with her, and then took his +departure by the small secret door, and went up to Madame de Sauve, who +had duly informed him of the queen mother's visit as well as the +unquestionable danger which threatened him. Warned on both sides, Henry +redoubled his watchfulness against the queen mother and felt all +distrust of her because little by little her face began to unbend, and +one morning Henry detected a friendly smile on her bloodless lips. That +day he had the greatest difficulty to bring himself to eat anything else +than eggs cooked by himself or to drink anything else than water which +his own eyes had seen dipped up from the Seine. + +The massacres were still going on, but nevertheless were diminishing in +violence. There had been such a wholesale butchery of the Huguenots that +their number was greatly reduced. The larger part were dead; many had +fled; a few had remained in concealment. Occasionally a great outcry +arose in one district or another; it meant that one of these was +discovered. Then the execution was either private or public according as +the victim was driven into a corner or could escape. In such +circumstances it furnished great amusement for the neighborhood where +the affair took place; for instead of growing calmer as their enemies +were annihilated, the Catholics grew more and more ferocious; the fewer +the remaining victims, the more bloodthirsty they seemed in their +persecution of the rest. + +Charles IX. had taken great pleasure in hunting the Huguenots, and when +he could no longer continue the chase himself he took delight in the +noise of others hunting them. + +One day, returning from playing at mall, which with tennis and hunting +were his favorite amusements, he went to his mother's apartments in high +spirits, followed by his usual train of courtiers. + +"Mother," he said, embracing the Florentine, who, observing his joy, was +already trying to detect its cause; "mother, good news! _Mort de tous +les diables!_ Do you know that the admiral's illustrious carcass which +it was said was lost has been found?" + +"Aha!" said Catharine. + +"Oh, heavens! yes. You thought as I did, mother, the dogs had eaten a +wedding dinner off him, but it was not so. My people, my dear people, my +good people, had a clever idea and have hung the admiral up at the +gibbet of Montfaucon. + + "_Du haut en bas Gaspard on a jété,_ + _Et puis de bas en haut on l'a monté_."[3] + +"Well!" said Catharine. + +"Well, good mother," replied Charles IX., "I have a strong desire to +see him again, dear old man, now I know he is really dead. It is very +fine weather and everything seems to be blooming to-day. The air is full +of life and perfume, and I feel better than I ever did. If you like, +mother, we will get on horseback and go to Montfaucon." + +"Willingly, my son," said Catharine, "if I had not made an appointment +which I cannot defer; and beside, to pay a visit to a man of such +importance as the admiral, we should invite the whole court. It will be +an occasion for observers to make curious observations. We shall see who +comes and who stays away." + +"Faith, you are right, mother, we will put it off till to-morrow; that +will be better, so send out your invitations and I will send mine; or +rather let us not invite any one. We will only say we are going, and +then every one will be free. Good-by, mother! I am going to play on the +horn." + +"You will exhaust yourself, Charles, as Ambroise Paré is always telling +you, and he is right. It is too severe an exercise for you." + +"Bah! bah! bah!" said Charles; "I wish I were sure nothing else would be +the cause of my death. I should then bury every one here, including +Harry, who will one day succeed us all, as Nostradamus prophesies." + +Catharine frowned. + +"My son," she said, "mistrust especially all things that appear +impossible, and meanwhile take care of yourself." + +"Only two or three blasts to rejoice my dogs, poor things; they are +wearied to death with doing nothing. I ought to have let them loose on +the Huguenots; that would have done them good!" + +And Charles IX. left his mother's room, went into his armory, took down +a horn, and played on it with a vigor that would have done honor to +Roland himself. It was difficult to understand how so weak a frame and +such pale lips could blow a blast so powerful. + +Catharine, in truth, was awaiting some one as she had told her son. A +moment after he had left her, one of her women came and spoke to her in +a low voice. The queen smiled, rose, and saluting the persons who formed +her court, followed the messenger. + +Réné the Florentine, the man to whom on the eve of Saint Bartholomew +the King of Navarre had given such a diplomatic reception, had just +entered her oratory. + +"Ah, here you are, Réné," said Catharine, "I was impatiently waiting for +you." + +Réné bowed. + +"Did you receive the note I wrote you yesterday?" + +"I had that honor." + +"Did you make another trial, as I asked you to do, of the horoscope cast +by Ruggieri, and agreeing so well with the prophecy of Nostradamus, +which says that all my three sons shall reign? For several days past, +affairs have decidedly changed, Réné, and it has occurred to me that +possibly fate has become less threatening." + +"Madame," replied Réné, shaking his head, "your majesty knows well that +affairs do not change fate; on the contrary, fate controls affairs." + +"Still, you have tried the sacrifice again, have you not?" + +"Yes, madame," replied Réné; "for it is my duty to obey you in all +things." + +"Well--and the result?" + +"Still the same, madame." + +"What, the black lamb uttered its three cries?" + +"Just the same as before, madame." + +"The sign of three cruel deaths in my family," murmured Catharine. + +"Alas!" said Réné. + +"What then?" + +"Then, madame, there was in its entrails that strange displacement of +the liver which we had already observed in the first two--it was wrong +side up!" + +"A change of dynasty! Still--still--still the same!" muttered Catharine; +"yet we must fight against this, Réné," she added. + +Réné shook his head. + +"I have told your majesty," he said, "that fate rules." + +"Is that your opinion?" asked Catharine. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Do you remember Jeanne d'Albret's horoscope?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Repeat it to me, I have quite forgotten it." + +"_Vives honorata_," said Réné, "_morieris reformidata, regina +amplificabere_." + +"That means, I believe," said Catharine, "_Thou shalt live honored_--and +she lacked common necessaries, poor thing! _Thou shalt die feared_--and +we laughed at her. _Thou shalt be greater than thou hast been as a +queen_--and she is dead, and sleeps in a tomb on which we have not even +engraved her name." + +"Madame, your majesty does not translate the _vives honorata_ rightly. +The Queen of Navarre lived honored; for all her life she enjoyed the +love of her children, the respect of her partisans; respect and love all +the more sincere in that she was poor." + +"Yes," said Catharine, "I grant you the _vives honorata_; but _morieris +reformidata_: how will you explain that?" + +"Nothing more easy: _Thou shalt die feared_." + +"Well--did she die feared?" + +"So much so that she would not have died had not your majesty feared +her. Then--_As a queen thou shalt be greater_; or, _Thou shalt be +greater than thou hast been as a queen_. This is equally true, madame; +for in exchange for a terrestrial crown she has doubtless, as a queen +and martyr, a celestial crown; and, besides, who knows what the future +may reserve for her posterity?" + +Catharine was excessively superstitious; she was even more alarmed at +Réné's coolness than at the steadfastness of the auguries, and as in her +case any scrape was a chance for her boldly to master the situation, she +said suddenly to him, without any other transition than the working of +her own thoughts: + +"Are any perfumes come from Italy?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Send me a boxful." + +"Of which?" + +"Of the last, of those"-- + +Catharine stopped. + +"Of those the Queen of Navarre was so fond of?" asked Réné. + +"Exactly." + +"I need not prepare them, for your majesty is now as skilful at them as +I am." + +"You think so?" said Catharine. "They certainly succeed." + +"Has your majesty anything more to say to me?" asked the perfumer. + +"Nothing," replied Catharine, thoughtfully; "at least I think not, only +if there is any change in the sacrifices, let me know it in time. By the +way, let us leave the lambs, and try the hens." + +"Alas, madame, I fear that in changing the victim we shall not change +the presages." + +"Do as I tell you." + +The perfumer bowed and left the apartment. + +Catharine mused for a short time, then rose and returning to her +bedchamber, where her women awaited her, announced the pilgrimage to +Montfaucon for the morrow. + +The news of this pleasure party caused great excitement in the palace +and great confusion in the city: the ladies prepared their most elegant +toilets; the gentlemen, their finest arms and steeds; the tradesmen +closed their shops, and the populace killed a few straggling Huguenots, +in order to furnish company for the dead admiral. + +There was a tremendous hubbub all the evening and during a good part of +the night. + +La Mole had spent a miserable day, and this miserable day had followed +three or four others equally miserable. Monsieur d'Alençon, to please +his sister, had installed him in his apartments, but had not seen him +since. He felt himself like a poor deserted child, deprived of the +tender care, the soothing attention of two women, the recollection of +one of whom occupied him perpetually. He had heard of her through the +surgeon Ambroise Paré, whom she had sent to him, but what he heard from +a man of fifty who was ignorant or pretended to be ignorant of the +interest felt by La Mole in everything appertaining to Marguerite was +very fragmentary and insufficient. Gillonne, indeed, had come once, of +her own accord, be it understood, to ask after him, and the visit was to +him like a sunbeam darting into a dungeon, and La Mole had remained +dazzled by it, and had expected a second visit, and yet two days passed +and she had not appeared. + +As soon, therefore, as the convalescent heard of this magnificent +reunion of the whole court for the following day he sent to ask Monsieur +d'Alençon the favor of accompanying it. + +The duke did not even inquire whether La Mole was able to bear the +fatigue, but merely answered: + +"Capital! Let him have one of my horses." + +That was all La Mole wanted. Maître Ambroise Paré came as usual to dress +his wounds, and La Mole explained to him the necessity he was under of +mounting on horseback, and begged him to put on the bandages with double +care. + +The two wounds, both that on the breast and that on the shoulder, were +closed; the one on the shoulder only pained him. Both were rose-red in +color, which showed that they were in a fair way of healing. Maître +Ambroise Paré covered them with gummed taffetas, a remedy greatly in +vogue then, and promised La Mole that if he did not exert himself too +much everything would go well. + +La Mole was at the height of joy. Save for a certain weakness caused by +loss of blood and a slight giddiness attributable to the same cause, he +felt as well as could be. Besides, doubtless Marguerite would be in the +party; he should see Marguerite again. And when he remembered what +benefit he had received from the sight of Gillonne, he had no doubt that +her mistress would have a still more efficacious influence upon him. + +So La Mole spent a part of the money which he had received when he went +away from his family in the purchase of the most beautiful white satin +doublet and the finest embroidered mantle that could be furnished by a +fashionable tailor. The same tailor procured for him a pair of those +perfumed boots such as were worn at that period. The whole outfit was +brought to him in the morning only a half hour later than the time at +which La Mole had ordered it, so that he had not much fault to find. + +He dressed himself quickly, looked in the glass, and found that he was +suitably attired, arranged, and perfumed. Then by walking up and down +the room several times, he assured himself that though it caused him +some sharp pangs, still the happiness which he felt in his heart would +render these physical inconveniences of no account. A cherry-colored +mantle of his own design, and cut rather longer than they were worn +then, proved to be very becoming to him. + +While he was thus engaged in the Louvre, another scene, of a similar +kind, was going on at the Hôtel de Guise. A tall gentleman, with red +hair, was examining, before a glass, a reddish mark which went across +his face very disagreeably; he combed and perfumed his mustache, and +while he was perfuming it, he kept spreading over that unfortunate mark +which, in spite of all the cosmetics then in use, persisted in +reappearing, a three-fold layer of white and red; but as the application +was insufficient an idea came to him: a hot sun, an August sun, was +flashing its rays into the court-yard; he made his way down there, took +his hat in his hand, and with his nose in the air and his eyes closed, +he walked up and down for ten minutes, fully exposed to the devouring +flame which fell from heaven like a torrent. At the end of these ten +minutes, owing to the unexampled ardor of the sun, the gentleman's face +had acquired such a brilliant color that the red streak was now no more +in harmony with the rest than it had been, but in comparison seemed +yellow. + +Nevertheless, the gentleman did not seem much dissatisfied with this +rainbow effect which he did his best to bring into accord with the rest +of his face by spreading a layer of vermilion over it, after which he +put on a magnificent suit which a tailor had brought to his room without +any commands from him. Thus attired, scented, and armed from head to +foot, he again went down into the court-yard and began to pat a large +black horse whose beauty would have been matchless but for a small cut, +like his own, made by a reiter's sabre in one of the last civil +conflicts. + +Yet, enchanted with the good steed as he was with himself, the +gentleman, whom no doubt our readers have easily recognized, was on his +back a quarter of an hour before any of the others and making the +court-yard of the Hôtel de Guise resound with the whinnying of the +charger accompanied by exclamations of _mordi_, pronounced in every +variety of accent according as he compelled the horse to submit to this +authority. At the end of a moment the horse completely subdued, +recognized by his obedience and subjection his master's legitimate +control, but the victory had not been obtained without noise, and this +noise, which was perhaps the very thing our gentleman reckoned upon, +this noise had attracted to the windows a lady whom our queller of +horses saluted respectfully, and who smiled at him in the most agreeable +manner. + +Five minutes later Madame de Nevers summoned her steward. + +"Sir," said she, "has Monsieur le Comte Annibal de Coconnas been +furnished a suitable breakfast?" + +"Yes, madame," replied the steward, "he ate this morning with a better +appetite than usual." + +"Very well, sir," said the duchess. + +Then addressing her first gentleman in waiting: + +"Monsieur d'Arguzon," she said, "let us set out for the Louvre, and keep +an eye, I beg, on Monsieur le Comte Annibal de Coconnas, for he is +wounded, and consequently still weak; and I would not for all the world +any accident should happen to him. That would make the Huguenots laugh, +for they owe him a spite since the blessed night of Saint Bartholomew." + +And Madame de Nevers, mounting her horse, went joyfully towards the +Louvre, which was the general rendezvous. + +It was two o'clock in the afternoon as a file of cavaliers, overflowing +with gold, jewels, and magnificent garments, appeared in the Rue Saint +Denis, entering by the corner of the Cemetery of the Innocents and +stretching itself out in the sunlight between the two rows of gloomy +looking houses like an immense reptile with variegated rings. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI. + +A DEAD ENEMY'S BODY ALWAYS SMELLS SWEET. + + +No brilliant company, however, could give any idea of this spectacle. +The rich and elegant silk dresses, bequeathed as a magnificent fashion +by François I. to his successors, had not yet been changed into those +formal and sombre vestments which came into fashion under Henry III.; so +that the costume of Charles IX., less rich, but perhaps more elegant +than those of preceding reigns, displayed its perfect harmony. In our +day no similar cortège could have any standard of comparison, for when +we wish magnificence of display we are reduced to mere symmetry and +uniform. + +Pages, esquires, gentlemen of low degree, dogs and horses, following on +the flanks and in the rear, formed of the royal cortège an absolute +army. Behind this army came the populace, or rather the populace was +everywhere. + +It followed, trooped alongside, and rushed ahead; there were shouts of +_Noel_ and _Haro_, for there were distinguishable in the procession many +Calvinists to hoot at, and the populace harbors resentment. + +That morning Charles, in presence of Catharine and the Duc de Guise, +had, as a perfectly natural thing spoken before Henry of Navarre of +going to visit the gibbet of Montfaucon, or, rather, the admiral's +mutilated corpse which had been suspended from it. Henry's first impulse +had been to refuse to take part in this excursion. Catharine supposed he +would. At the first words in which he expressed his repugnance she +exchanged a glance and a smile with the Duc de Guise. Henry detected +them both, understood what they meant, and suddenly recovering his +presence of mind said: + +"But why should I not go? I am a Catholic, and am bound to my new +religion." + +Then addressing the King: + +"Your Majesty may reckon on my company," he said; "and I shall be always +happy to accompany you wheresoever you may go." + +And he threw a sweeping glance around, to see whose brows might be +frowning. + +Perhaps of all that cortège, the person who was looked at with the +greatest curiosity was that motherless son, that kingless king, that +Huguenot turned Catholic. His long and marked countenance, his somewhat +vulgar figure, his familiarity with his inferiors, which he carried to a +degree almost derogatory to a king,--a familiarity acquired by the +mountaineer habits of his youth, and which he preserved till his +death,--marked him out to the spectators, some of whom cried: + +"To mass, Harry, to mass!" + +To which Henry replied: + +"I attended it yesterday, to-day, and I shall attend it again to-morrow. +_Ventre saint gris!_ surely that is sufficient." + +Marguerite was on horseback--so lovely, so fresh, so elegant that +admiration made a regular concert around her, though it must be +confessed that a few notes of it were addressed to her companion, the +Duchesse de Nevers, who had just joined her on a white horse so proud of +his burden that he kept tossing his head. + +"Well, duchess!" said the Queen of Navarre, "what is there new?" + +"Why, madame," replied the duchess, aloud, "I know of nothing." + +Then in a lower tone: + +"And what has become of the Huguenot?" + +"I have found him a retreat almost safe," replied Marguerite. "And the +wholesale assassin, what have you done with him?" + +"He wished to take part in the festivity, and so we mounted him on +Monsieur de Nevers' war-horse, a creature as big as an elephant. He is a +fearful cavalier. I allowed him to be present at the ceremony to-day, as +I felt that your Huguenot would be prudent enough to keep his chamber +and that there was no fear of their meeting." + +"Oh, faith!" replied Marguerite, smiling, "if he were here, and he is +not here, I do not think a collision would take place. My Huguenot is +remarkably handsome, but nothing more--a dove, and not a hawk; he coos, +but does not bite. After all," she added, with a gesture impossible to +describe, and shrugging her shoulders slightly, "after all, perhaps our +King thought him a Huguenot while he is only a Brahmin, and his religion +forbids him to shed blood." + +"But where, pray, is the Duc d'Alençon?" inquired Henriette; "I do not +see him." + +"He will join us later; his eyes troubled him this morning and he was +inclined not to come, but as it is known that because he holds a +different opinion from Charles and his brother Henry he inclines toward +the Huguenots, he became convinced that the King might put a bad +interpretation on his absence and he changed his mind. There, hark! +people are gazing and shouting yonder; it must be that he is coming by +the Porte Montmartre." + +"You are right; 'tis he; I recognize him. How elegant he looks to-day," +said Henriette. "For some time he has taken particular pains with his +appearance; he must be in love. See how nice it is to be a prince of the +blood, he gallops over every one, they all draw on one side." + +"Yes," said Marguerite, laughing, "he will ride over us. For Heaven's +sake draw your attendants to one side, duchess, for there is one of them +who will be killed if he does not give way." + +"It is my hero!" cried the duchess; "look, only look!" + +Coconnas had left his place to approach the Duchesse de Nevers, but just +as his horse was crossing the kind of exterior boulevard which separates +the street from the Faubourg Saint Denis, a cavalier of the Duc +d'Alençon's suite, trying in vain to rein in his excited horse, dashed +full against Coconnas. Coconnas, shaken by the collision, reeled on his +colossal mount, his hat nearly fell off; he put it on more firmly and +turned round furiously. + +"Heavens!" said Marguerite, in a low tone, to her friend, "Monsieur de +la Mole!" + +"That handsome, pale young man?" exclaimed the duchess, unable to +repress her first impression. + +"Yes, yes; the very one who nearly upset your Piedmontese." + +"Oh," said the duchess, "something terrible will happen! they look at +each other--recollect each other!" + +Coconnas had indeed recognized La Mole, and in his surprise dropped his +bridle, for he believed he had killed his old companion, or at least put +him _hors de combat_ for some time. La Mole had also recognized +Coconnas, and he felt a fire mount up into his face. For some seconds, +which sufficed for the expression of all the sentiments these two men +harbored, they gazed at each other in a way which made the two women +shudder. + +After which, La Mole, having looked about him, and doubtless seeing that +the place was ill chosen for an explanation, spurred his horse and +rejoined the Duc d'Alençon. Coconnas remained stationary for a moment, +twisting his mustache until the point almost entered his eye; then +seeing La Mole dash off without a word, he did the same. + +"Ah, ha!" said Marguerite, with pain and contempt, "so I was not +mistaken--it is really too much;" and she bit her lips till the blood +came. + +"He is very handsome," added the Duchesse de Nevers, with commiseration. + +Just at this moment the Duc d'Alençon reached his place behind the King +and the queen mother, so that his suite, in following him, were obliged +to pass before Marguerite and the Duchesse de Nevers. La Mole, as he +rode before the two princesses, raised his hat, saluted the queen, and, +bowing to his horse's neck, remained uncovered until her majesty should +honor him with a look. + +But Marguerite turned her head aside disdainfully. + +La Mole, no doubt, comprehended the contemptuous expression of the +queen's features, and from pale he became livid, and that he might not +fall from his horse was compelled to hold on by the mane. + +"Oh, oh!" said Henriette to the queen; "look, cruel that you are!--he is +going to faint." + +"Good," said the queen, with a cruel smile; "that is the only thing we +need. Where are your salts?" + +Madame de Nevers was mistaken. La Mole, with an effort, recovered +himself, and sitting erect on his horse took his place in the Duc +d'Alençon's suite. + +Meantime they kept on their way and at length saw the lugubrious outline +of the gibbet, erected and first used by Enguerrand de Marigny. Never +before had it been so adorned. + +The ushers and guards went forward and made a wide circle around the +enclosure. As they drew near, the crows perched on the gibbet flew away +with croakings of despair. + +The gibbet erected at Montfaucon generally offered behind its posts a +shelter for the dogs that gathered there attracted by frequent prey, and +for philosophic bandits who came to ponder on the sad chances of +fortune. + +That day at Montfaucon there were apparently neither dogs nor bandits. +The ushers and guards had scared away the dogs together with the crows, +and the bandits had mingled with the throng so as to make some of the +lucky hits which are the more cheerful vicissitudes of their profession. + +The procession moved forward; the King and Catharine arrived first, then +came the Duc d'Anjou, Duc d'Alençon, the King of Navarre, Monsieur de +Guise, and their followers, then Madame Marguerite, the Duchesse de +Nevers, and all the women who composed what was called the queen's +flying squadron; then the pages, squires, attendants, and people--in all +ten thousand persons. + +From the principal gibbet hung a misshapen mass, a black corpse stained +with coagulated blood and mud, whitened by layers of dust. The carcass +was headless, and it was hung by the legs, and the populace, ingenious +as it always is, had replaced the head with a bunch of straw, to which +was fastened a mask; and in the mouth of this mask some wag, knowing the +admiral's habit, had introduced a toothpick. + +At once appalling and singular was the spectacle of all these elegant +lords and handsome ladies like a procession painted by Goya, riding +along in the midst of those blackened carcasses and gibbets, with their +long lean arms. + +The noisier the exultation of the spectators, the more strikingly it +contrasted with the melancholy silence and cold insensibility of those +corpses--objects of ridicule which made even the jesters shudder. + +Many could scarcely endure this horrible spectacle, and by his pallor +might be distinguished, in the centre of collected Huguenots, Henry, +who, great as was his power of self-control and the degree of +dissimulation conferred on him by Heaven, could no longer bear it. + +He made as his excuse the strong stench which emanated from all those +human remains, and going to Charles, who, with Catharine, had stopped in +front of the admiral's dead body, he said: + +"Sire, does not your Majesty find that this poor carcass smells so +strong that it is impossible to remain near it any longer?" + +"Do you find it so, Harry?" inquired the King, his eyes sparkling with +ferocious joy. + +"Yes, sire." + +"Well, then, I am not of your opinion; a dead enemy's corpse always +smells sweet." + +"Faith, sire," said Tavannes, "since your Majesty knew that we were +going to make a little call on the admiral, you should have invited +Pierre Ronsard, your teacher of poetry; he would have extemporized an +epitaph for the old Gaspard." + +"There is no need of him for that," said Charles IX., after an instant's +thought: + + _"Ci-gît,--mais c'est mal entendu,_ + _Pour lui le mot est trop honnête,--_ + _Ici l'amiral est pendu_ + _Par les pieds, à faute de tête."_[4] + +"Bravo! bravo!" cried the Catholic gentlemen in unison, while the +collected Huguenots scowled and kept silent, and Henry, as he was +talking with Marguerite and Madame de Nevers, pretended not to have +heard. + +"Come, come, sir!" said Catharine, who, in spite of the perfumes with +which she was covered, began to be made ill by the odor. "Come, however +agreeable company may be, it must be left at last; let us therefore say +good-by to the admiral, and return to Paris." + +She nodded ironically as when one takes leave of a friend, and, taking +the head of the column, turned to the road, while the cortège defiled +before Coligny's corpse. + +The sun was sinking in the horizon. + +The throng followed fast on their majesties so as to enjoy to the very +end all the splendors of the procession and the details of the +spectacle; the thieves followed the populace, so that in ten minutes +after the King's departure there was no person about the admiral's +mutilated carcass on which now blew the first breezes of the evening. + +When we say no person, we err. A gentleman mounted on a black horse, and +who, doubtless, could not contemplate at his ease the black mutilated +trunk when it was honored by the presence of princes, had remained +behind, and was examining, in all their details, the bolts, stone +pillars, chains, and in fact the gibbet, which no doubt appeared to him +(but lately arrived in Paris, and ignorant of the perfection to which +things could be brought in the capital) the paragon of all that man +could invent in the way of awful ugliness. + +We need hardly inform our friends that this man was M. Annibal de +Coconnas. + +A woman's practised eye had vainly looked for him in the cavalcade and +had searched among the ranks without being able to find him. + +Monsieur de Coconnas, as we have said, was standing ecstatically +contemplating Enguerrand de Marigny's work. + +But this woman was not the only person who was trying to find Monsieur +de Coconnas. Another gentleman, noticeable for his white satin doublet +and gallant plume, after looking toward the front and on all sides, +bethought him to look back, and saw Coconnas's tall figure and the +silhouette of his gigantic horse standing out strongly against the sky +reddened by the last rays of the setting sun. + +Then the gentleman in the white satin doublet turned out from the road +taken by the majority of the company, struck into a narrow footpath, and +describing a curve rode back toward the gibbet. + +Almost at the same time the lady whom we have recognized as the Duchesse +de Nevers, just as we recognized the tall gentleman on the black horse +as Coconnas, rode alongside of Marguerite and said to her: + +"We were both mistaken, Marguerite, for the Piedmontese has remained +behind and Monsieur de la Mole has gone back to meet him." + +"By Heaven!" exclaimed Marguerite, laughing, "then something is going to +happen. Faith, I confess I should not be sorry to revise my opinion +about him." + +Marguerite then turned her horse and witnessed the manoeuvre which we +have described La Mole as performing. + +The two princesses left the procession; the opportunity was most +favorable: they were passing by a hedge-lined footpath which led up the +hill, and in doing so passed within thirty yards of the gibbet. Madame +de Nevers whispered a word in her captain's ear, Marguerite beckoned to +Gillonne, and the four turned into this cross path and went and hid +behind the shrubbery nearest to the place where the scene which they +evidently expected to witness was to take place. It was about thirty +yards, as we have already said, from the spot where Coconnas in a state +of ecstasy was gesticulating before the admiral. + +Marguerite dismounted, Madame de Nevers and Gillonne did the same; the +captain then got down and took the bridles of the four horses. Thick +green furnished the three women a seat such as princesses often seek in +vain. The glade before them was so open that they would not miss the +slightest detail. + +La Mole had accomplished his circuit. He rode up slowly and took his +stand behind Coconnas; then stretching out his hand tapped him on the +shoulder. + +The Piedmontese turned round. + +"Oh!" said he, "so it was not a dream! You are still alive!" + +"Yes, sir," replied La Mole; "yes, I am still alive. It is no fault of +yours, but I am still alive." + +"By Heaven! I know you again well enough," replied Coconnas, "in spite +of your pale face. You were redder than that the last time we met!" + +"And I," said La Mole, "I also recognize you, in spite of that yellow +line across your face. You were paler than that when I made that mark +for you!" + +Coconnas bit his lips, but, evidently resolved on continuing the +conversation in a tone of irony, he said: + +"It is curious, is it not, Monsieur de la Mole, particularly for a +Huguenot, to be able to look at the admiral suspended from that iron +hook? And yet they say there are people extravagant enough to accuse us +of killing even small Huguenots, sucklings." + +"Count," said La Mole, bowing, "I am no longer a Huguenot; I have the +happiness of being a Catholic!" + +"Bah!" exclaimed Coconnas, bursting into loud laughter; "so you are a +convert, sir? Oh, that was clever of you!" + +"Sir," replied La Mole, with the same seriousness and the same +politeness, "I made a vow to become a convert if I escaped the +massacre." + +"Count," said the Piedmontese, "that was a very prudent vow, and I beg +to congratulate you. Perhaps you made still others?" + +"Yes, I made a second," answered La Mole, patting his horse with entire +coolness. + +"And what might that be?" inquired Coconnas. + +"To hang you up there, by that small nail which seems to await you +beneath Monsieur de Coligny." + +"What, as I am now?" asked Coconnas, "alive and merry?" + +"No, sir; after I have passed my sword through your body!" + +Coconnas became purple, and his eyes darted flames. + +"Do you mean," said he in a bantering tone, "to that nail?" + +"Yes," replied La Mole, "to that nail." + +"You are not tall enough to do it, my little sir!" + +"Then I'll get on your horse, my great man-slayer," replied La Mole. +"Ah, you believe, my dear Monsieur Annibal de Coconnas, that one may +with impunity assassinate people under the loyal and honorable excuse of +being a hundred to one, forsooth! But the day comes when a man finds his +man; and I believe that day has come now. I should very well like to +send a bullet through your ugly head; but, bah! I might miss you, for my +hand is still trembling from the traitorous wounds you inflicted upon +me." + +"My ugly head!" shouted Coconnas, leaping down from his steed. +"Down--down from your horse, M. le Comte, and draw!" + +And he drew his sword. + +"I believe your Huguenot called Monsieur de Coconnas an 'ugly head,'" +whispered the Duchesse de Nevers. "Do you think he is bad looking?" + +"He is charming," said Marguerite, laughing, "and I am compelled to +acknowledge that fury renders Monsieur de La Mole unjust; but hush! let +us watch!" + +In fact, La Mole had dismounted from his horse with as much deliberation +as Coconnas had shown of precipitation; he had taken off his +cherry-colored cloak, laid it leisurely on the ground, drawn his sword, +and put himself on guard. + +"Aïe!" he exclaimed, as he stretched out his arm. + +"Ouf!" muttered Coconnas, as he moved his,--for both, as it will be +remembered, had been wounded in the shoulder and it hurt them when they +made any violent movement. + +A burst of laughter, ill repressed, came from the clump of bushes. The +princesses could not quite contain themselves at the sight of their two +champions rubbing their omoplates and making up faces. + +This burst of merriment reached the ears of the two gentlemen, who were +ignorant that they had witnesses; turning round, they beheld their +ladies. + +La Mole resumed his guard as firm as an automaton, and Coconnas crossed +his blade with an emphatic "By Heaven!" + +"Ah ça! now they will murder each other in real earnest, if we do not +interfere. There has been enough of this. Holá, gentlemen!--holá!" cried +Marguerite. + +"Let them be! let them be!" said Henriette, who having seen Coconnas at +work, hoped in her heart that he would have as easy a victory over La +Mole as he had over Mercandon's son and two nephews. + +"Oh, they are really beautiful so!" exclaimed Marguerite. "Look--they +seem to breathe fire!" + +Indeed, the combat, begun with sarcasms and mutual insults, became +silent as soon as the champions had crossed their swords. Each +distrusted his own strength, and each, at every quick pass, was +compelled to restrain an expression of pain occasioned by his own +wounds. Nevertheless, with eyes fixed and burning, mouth half open, and +teeth clenched, La Mole advanced with short and firm steps toward his +adversary, who, seeing in him a most skilful swordsman, retreated step +by step. They both thus reached the edge of the ditch on the other side +of which were the spectators; then, as if his retreat had been only a +simple stratagem to draw nearer to his lady, Coconnas took his stand, +and as La Mole made his guard a little too wide, he made a thrust with +the quickness of lightning and instantly La Mole's white satin doublet +was stained with a spot of blood which kept growing larger. + +"Courage!" cried the Duchesse de Nevers. + +"Ah, poor La Mole!" exclaimed Marguerite, with a cry of distress. + +La Mole heard this cry, darted at the queen one of those looks which +penetrate the heart even deeper than a sword-point, and taking advantage +of a false parade, thrust vigorously at his adversary. + +This time the two women uttered two cries which seemed like one. The +point of La Mole's rapier had appeared, all covered with blood, behind +Coconnas's back. + +Yet neither fell. Both remained erect, looking at each other with open +mouth, and feeling that on the slightest movement they must lose their +balance. At last the Piedmontese, more dangerously wounded than his +adversary, and feeling his senses forsaking him with his blood, fell on +La Mole, grasping him with one hand, while with the other he endeavored +to unsheath his poniard. + +La Mole roused all his strength, raised his hand, and let fall the +pommel of his sword on Coconnas's forehead. Coconnas, stupefied by the +blow, fell, but in his fall drew down his adversary with him, and both +rolled into the ditch. + +Then Marguerite and the Duchesse de Nevers, seeing that, dying as they +were, they were still struggling to destroy each other, hastened to +them, followed by the captain of the guards; but before they could +reach them the combatants' hands unloosened, their eyes closed, and +letting go their grasp of their weapons they stiffened in what seemed +like their final agony. A wide stream of blood bubbled round them. + +"Oh, brave, brave La Mole!" cried Marguerite, unable any longer to +repress her admiration. "Ah! pardon me a thousand times for having a +moment doubted your courage." + +And her eyes filled with tears. + +"Alas! alas!" murmured the duchess, "gallant Annibal. Did you ever see +two such intrepid lions, madame?" + +And she sobbed aloud. + +"Heavens! what ugly thrusts," said the captain, endeavoring to stanch +the streams of blood. "Holá! you, there, come here as quickly as you +can--here, I say"-- + +He addressed a man who, seated on a kind of tumbril or cart painted red, +appeared in the evening mist singing this old song, which had doubtless +been suggested to him by the miracle of the Cemetery of the Innocents: + + "_Bel aubespin fleurissant_ + _Verdissant,_ + _Le long de ce beau rivage,_ + _Tu es vétu, jusqu'au bas_ + _Des longs bras_ + _D'une lambrusche sauvage._ + + "_Le chantre rossignolet,_ + _Nouvelet,_ + _Courtisant sa bien-aimée_ + _Pour ses amours alléger_ + _Vient logerv + _Tous les ans sous ta ramée._ + + "_Or, vis, gentil aubespin_ + _Vis sans fin;_ + _Vis, sans que jamais tonnerre,_ + _Ou la cognée, ou les vents_ + _Ou le temps_ + _Te puissent ruer par._"...[5] + +"Holá! hé!" shouted the captain a second time, "come when you are +called. Don't you see that these gentlemen need help?" + +The carter, whose repulsive exterior and coarse face formed a singular +contrast with the sweet and sylvan song we have just quoted, stopped his +horse, got out, and bending over the two bodies said: + +"These be terrible wounds, sure enough, but I have made worse in my +time." + +"Who are you, pray?" inquired Marguerite, experiencing, in spite of +herself, a certain vague terror which she could not overcome. + +"Madame," replied the man, bowing down to the ground, "I am Maître +Caboche, headsman to the provostry of Paris, and I have come to hang up +at the gibbet some companions for Monsieur the Admiral." + +"Well! and I am the Queen of Navarre," replied Marguerite; "cast your +corpses down there, spread in your cart the housings of our horses, and +bring these two gentlemen softly behind us to the Louvre." + + + + +CHAPTER XVII. + +MAÎTRE AMBROISE PARÉ'S CONFRÈRE. + + +The tumbril in which Coconnas and La Mole were laid started back toward +Paris, following in the shadow the guiding group. It stopped at the +Louvre, and the driver was amply rewarded. The wounded men were carried +to the Duc d'Alençon's quarters, and Maître Ambroise Paré was sent for. + +When he arrived, neither of the two men had recovered consciousness. + +La Mole was the least hurt of the two. The sword had struck him below +the right armpit, but without touching any vital parts. Coconnas was run +through the lungs, and the air that escaped from his wound made the +flame of a candle waver. + +Ambroise Paré would not answer for Coconnas. + +Madame de Nevers was in despair. Relying on Coconnas's strength, +courage, and skill, she had prevented Marguerite from interfering with +the duel. She would have had Coconnas taken to the Hôtel de Guise and +gladly bestowed on him a second time the care which she had already +lavished on his comfort, but her husband was likely to arrive from Rome +at any moment and find fault with the introduction of a strange man in +the domestic establishment. + +To hide the cause of the wounds, Marguerite had had the two young men +brought to her brother's rooms, where one of them, to be sure, had +already been installed, by saying that they were two gentlemen who had +been thrown from their horses during the excursion, but the truth was +divulged by the captain, who, having witnessed the duel, could not help +expressing his admiration, and it was soon known at court that two new +_raffinés_[6] had burst into sudden fame. Attended by the same surgeon, +who divided his attentions between them, the two wounded men passed +through the different phases of convalescence arising from the greater +or less severity of their wounds. La Mole, who was less severely wounded +of the two, was the first to recover consciousness. A terrible fever had +taken possession of Coconnas and his return to life was attended by all +the symptoms of the most horrible delirium. + +Though La Mole was confined in the same room with Coconnas, he had not, +when he came to himself, seen his companion, or if he saw him, he +betrayed no sign that he saw him. Coconnas, on the contrary, as soon as +he opened his eyes, fastened them on La Mole with an expression which +proved that the blood he had lost had not modified the passions of his +fiery temperament. + +Coconnas thought he was dreaming, and that in this dream he saw the +enemy he imagined he had twice slain, only the dream was unduly +prolonged. After having observed La Mole laid, like himself, on a couch, +and his wounds dressed by the surgeon, he saw him rise up in bed, while +he himself was still confined to his by his fever, his weakness, and his +pain; he saw him get out of bed, then walk, first leaning on the +surgeon's arm, and then on a cane, and finally without assistance. + +Coconnas, still delirious, viewed these different stages of his +companion's recovery with eyes sometimes dull, at others wandering, but +always threatening. + +All this presented to the Piedmontese's fiery spirit a fearful mixture +of the fantastic and the real. For him La Mole was dead, wholly dead, +having been actually killed twice and not merely once, and yet he +recognized this same La Mole's ghost lying in a bed like his own; then, +as we have said, he saw this ghost get up, walk round, and, horrible to +relate, come toward his bed. This ghost, whom Coconnas would have wished +to avoid, even had it been in the depths of hell, came straight to him +and stopped beside his pillow, standing there and looking at him; there +was in his features a look of gentleness and compassion which Coconnas +took for the expression of hellish derision. + +There arose in his mind, possibly more wounded than his body, an +insatiable thirst of vengeance. He was wholly occupied with one idea, +that of procuring some weapon, and with that weapon piercing the body or +the ghost of La Mole which so cruelly persecuted him. His clothes, +stained with blood, had been placed on a chair by his bed, but +afterwards removed, it being thought imprudent to leave them in his +sight; but his poniard still remained on the chair, for it was imagined +it would be some time before he would want to use it. + +Coconnas saw the poniard; three nights while La Mole was slumbering he +strove to reach it; three nights his strength failed him, and he +fainted. At length, on the fourth night, he clutched it convulsively, +and groaning with the pain of the effort, hid the weapon beneath his +pillow. + +The next day he saw something he had never deemed possible. La Mole's +ghost, which every day seemed to gain strength, while he, occupied with +the terrible dream, kept losing his in the eternal weaving of the scheme +which was to rid him of it,--La Mole's ghost, growing more and more +energetic, walked thoughtfully up and down the room three or four times, +then, after having put on his mantle, buckled on his sword, and put on a +broad-brimmed felt hat, opened the door and went out. + +Coconnas breathed again. He thought that he was freed from his phantom. +For two or three hours his blood circulated more calmly and coolly in +his veins than it had done since the duel. La Mole's absence for one day +would have restored Coconnas to his senses; a week's absence would +perhaps have cured him; unfortunately, La Mole returned at the end of +two hours. + +This reappearance of La Mole was like a poniard-stab for Coconnas; and +although La Mole did not return alone, Coconnas did not give a single +look at his companion. + +And yet his companion was worth looking at. + +He was a man of forty, short, thick-set, and vigorous, with black hair +which came to his eyebrows, and a black beard, which, contrary to the +fashion of the period, thickly covered the chin; but he seemed one who +cared little for the fashion. + +He wore a leather jerkin, all covered with brown spots; red hose and +leggings, thick shoes coming above the ankle, a cap the same color as +his stockings, and a girdle, from which hung a large knife in a leather +sheaf, completed his attire. + +This singular personage, whose presence in the Louvre seemed so +anomalous, threw his brown mantle on a chair and unceremoniously +approached Coconnas, whose eyes, as if fascinated, remained fixed upon +La Mole, who remained at some distance. He looked at the sick man, and +shaking his head, said to La Mole: + +"You have waited till it was rather late, my dear gentleman." + +"I could not get out sooner," said La Mole. + +"Eh! Heavens! you should have sent for me." + +"Whom had I to send?" + +"True, I forgot where we are. I had told those ladies, but they would +not listen to me. If my prescriptions had been followed instead of those +of that ass, Ambroise Paré, you would by this time have been in a +condition to go in pursuit of adventures together, or exchange another +sword-thrust if such had been your good pleasure; but we shall see. Does +your friend listen to reason?" + +"Scarcely." + +"Hold out your tongue, my dear gentleman." + +Coconnas thrust out his tongue to La Mole, making such a hideous grimace +that the practitioner shook his head a second time. + +"Oho!" he muttered, "contraction of the muscles. There's no time to be +lost. This evening I will send you a potion ready prepared; you must +make him take it three times: once at midnight, once at one o'clock, and +once at two." + +"Very well." + +"But who will make him take it?" + +"I will." + +"You?" + +"Yes." + +"You give me your word?" + +"On my honor." + +"And if any physician should attempt to abstract the slightest portion +to analyze it and discover what its ingredients are"-- + +"I will spill it to the last drop." + +"This also on your honor?" + +"I swear it!" + +"Whom shall I send you this potion by?" + +"Any one you please." + +"But my messenger"-- + +"Well?" + +"How will he get to you?" + +"That is easily managed. He will say that he comes from Monsieur Réné, +the perfumer." + +"That Florentine who lives on the Pont Saint Michel?" + +"Exactly. He is allowed to enter the Louvre at any hour, day or night." + +The man smiled. + +"In fact," said he, "the queen mother at least owes him that much. It is +understood, then; he will come from Maître Réné, the perfumer. I may +surely use his name for once: he has often enough practised my +profession without having taken his degree either." + +"Then," said La Mole, "I may rely on you." + +"You may." + +"And about the payment?" + +"Oh, we will arrange about that with the gentleman himself when he is +well again." + +"You may be quite easy on that score, for I am sure he will pay you +generously." + +"I believe you. And yet," he added with a strange smile, "as the people +with whom I have to do are not wont to be grateful, I should not be +surprised if when he is on his legs again he should forget or at least +not think to give a single thought to me." + +"All right," said La Mole, smiling also, "in that case I should have to +jog his memory." + +"Very well, we'll leave it so. In two hours you will receive the +medicine." + +"Au revoir!" + +"You said"-- + +"Au revoir." + +The man smiled. + +"It is always my custom," he added, "to say adieu! So adieu, Monsieur de +la Mole. In two hours you will have the potion. You understand, it must +be given at midnight--in three doses--at intervals of an hour." + +So saying he took his departure, and La Mole was left alone with +Coconnas. + +Coconnas had heard the whole conversation, but understood nothing of it; +a senseless babble of words, a senseless jangling of phrases, was all +that came to him. Of the whole interview he remembered nothing except +the word "midnight." + +He continued to watch La Mole, who remained in the room, pacing +thoughtfully up and down. + +The unknown doctor kept his word, and at the appointed time sent the +medicine, which La Mole placed on a small silver chafing-dish, and +having taken this precaution, went to bed. + +This action on the part of La Mole gave Coconnas a little quietude. He +tried to shut his eyes, but his feverish slumbers were only a +continuation of his waking delirium. The same phantom which haunted him +by day came to disturb him by night; across his hot eyelids he still saw +La Mole as threatening as ever, and a voice kept repeating in his ear: +"Midnight, midnight, midnight!" + +Suddenly the echoing note of a clock's bell awoke in the night and +struck twelve. Coconnas opened his blood-shot eyes; the fiery breath +from his breast scorched his dry lips, an unquenchable thirst devoured +his burning throat; the little night lamp was burning as usual, and its +dim light made thousands of phantoms dance before his wandering eyes. + +And then a horrible vision--he saw La Mole get out of bed, and after +walking up and down the room two or three times, as the sparrow-hawk +flits before the little bird it is trying to fascinate, come toward him +with his fist clinched. + +Coconnas seized his poniard and prepared to plunge it into his enemy. + +La Mole kept coming nearer. + +Coconnas muttered: + +"Ah! here you are again! you are always here! Come on! You threaten me, +do you! you smile! Come, come, come! ah, you still keep coming nearer, a +step at a time! Come, come, and let me kill you." + +And suiting the action to the word, just as La Mole bent down to him, +Coconnas flashed out the poniard from under the clothes; but the effort +he made in rising exhausted him, the weapon dropped from his hand, and +he fell back upon his pillow. + +"There, there!" said La Mole, gently lifting his head; "drink this, my +poor fellow, for you are burning up." + +It was really a cup La Mole presented to Coconnas, who in the wild +excitement of his delirium took it to be a threatening fist. + +But at the nectarous sensation of this beneficent draught, soothing his +lips and cooling his throat, Coconnas's reason, or rather his instinct, +came back to him, a never before experienced feeling of comfort pervaded +his frame; he turned an intelligent look at La Mole, who was supporting +him in his arms, and smiling on him; and from those eyes, so lately +glowing with fury, a tear rolled down his burning cheek, which drank it +with avidity. + +"_Mordi!_" whispered Coconnas, as he fell back on his bolster. "If I get +over this, Monsieur de la Mole, you shall be my friend." + +"And you will get over it," said La Mole, "if you will drink the other +two cups, and have no more ugly dreams." + +An hour afterward La Mole, assuming the duties of a nurse, and +scrupulously carrying out the unknown doctor's orders, rose again, +poured a second dose into the cup, and carried it to Coconnas, who +instead of waiting for him with his poniard, received him with open +arms, eagerly swallowed the potion, and calmly fell asleep. + +The third cup had a no less marvellous effect. The sick man's breathing +became more regular, his stiff limbs relaxed, a gentle perspiration +diffused itself over his burning skin, and when Ambroise Paré visited +him the next morning, he smiled complacently, saying: + +"I answer for Monsieur de Coconnas now; and this will not be one of the +least difficult cures I have effected." + +This scene, half-dramatic, half-burlesque, and yet not lacking in a +certain poetic touch when Coconnas's fierce ways were taken into +consideration, resulted in the friendship which the two gentlemen had +begun at the Inn of the _Belle Étoile_, and which had been so violently +interrupted by the Saint Bartholomew night's occurrences, from that time +forth taking on a new vigor and soon surpassing that of Orestes and +Pylades by five sword-thrusts and one pistol-wound exchanged between +them. + +At all events, wounds old and new, slight or serious, were at last in a +fair way of cure. La Mole, faithful to his duties as nurse, would not +forsake the sick-room until Coconnas was entirely well. As long as +weakness kept the invalid on the bed, he lifted him, and when he began +to improve he helped him to walk; in a word, he lavished on him all the +attentions suggested by his gentle and affectionate disposition, and +this care, together with the Piedmontese's natural vigor, brought about +a more rapid convalescence than would have been expected. + +However, one and the same thought tormented both the young men. Each had +in his delirium apparently seen the woman he loved approach his couch, +and yet, certainly since they had recovered their senses, neither +Marguerite nor Madame de Nevers had entered the room. However, that was +perfectly comprehensible; the one, wife of the King of Navarre, the +other, the Duc de Guise's sister-in-law, could not have publicly shown +two simple gentlemen such a mark of evident interest, could they? No! La +Mole and Coconnas could not make any other reply to this question. But +still the absence of the ladies, tantamount perhaps to utter +forgetfulness, was not the less painful. + +It is true the gentleman who had witnessed the duel had come several +times, as if of his own accord, to inquire after them; it is true +Gillonne had done the same; but La Mole had not ventured to speak to the +one concerning the queen; Coconnas had not ventured to speak to the +other of Madame de Nevers. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. + +THE GHOSTS. + + +For some time each of the young men kept his secret confined to his own +heart. At last their reserve burst its barriers, and the thought which +had so long occupied them escaped their lips, and both cemented their +friendship by this final proof, without which there is no +friendship,--namely, perfect confidence. + +They were both madly in love--one with a princess and the other with a +queen. + +For these two poor suitors there was something frightful in the almost +insuperable distance separating them from the objects of their desires. + +And yet hope is a sentiment so deeply rooted in man's heart that in +spite of the madness of their love they hoped! + +They both, as they recovered from their illness, took great pains with +their personal appearance. Every man, even the most indifferent to +physical appearance, has, at certain times, mute interviews with his +looking-glass, signs of intelligence, after which he generally leaves +his confidant, quite satisfied with the interview. Now our two young men +were not persons whose mirrors were compelled to give them harsh advice. +La Mole, delicate, pale, and elegant, had the beauty of distinction; +Coconnas, powerful, large-framed, and fresh-colored, had the beauty of +strength. He had more, for his recent illness had been of advantage to +him. He had become thinner, grown paler, and the famous scar which had +formerly caused him so much anxiety from its prismatic relationship to +the rainbow had disappeared, giving promise, probably like the +post-diluvian phenomenon, of a long series of lovely days and calm +nights. + +Moreover, the most delicate attentions continued to be lavished on the +two wounded men, and each of them on the day when he was well enough to +rise found a _robe-de-chambre_ on the easy-chair nearest his bed; on the +day when he was able to dress himself, a complete suit of clothes; +moreover, in the pocket of each doublet was a well-filled purse, which +they each kept, intending, of course, to return, in the proper time and +place, to the unknown protector who watched over them. + +This unknown protector could not be the prince in whose quarters the two +young men resided, for the prince had not only never once paid them a +visit, but he had not even sent to make any inquiry after them. + +A vague hope whispered to each heart that this unknown protector was the +woman he loved. + +So the two wounded men awaited with intense impatience the moment when +they could go out. La Mole, stronger and sooner cured than Coconnas, +might have done so long before, but a kind of tacit convention bound him +to his friend. It was agreed between them that the first time they went +out they should make three calls: + +The first should be upon the unknown doctor whose suave medicine had +brought such a remarkable improvement in the inflammation of Coconnas's +lungs. + +The second to the dwelling of the defunct Maître La Hurière, where each +of them had left his portmanteau and horse. + +The third to the Florentine Réné, who, uniting to his title of perfumer +that of magician, not only sold cosmetics and poisons, but also +concocted philters and delivered oracles. + +At length, after two months passed in convalescence and confinement, the +long-looked-for day arrived. + +We used the word "confinement;" the use of it is accurate because +several times in their impatience they had tried to hasten that day; but +each time a sentinel posted at the door had stopped their passage and +they had learned that they could not step out unless Maître Ambroise +Paré gave them their _exeat_. + +Now, one day that clever surgeon, having come to the conclusion that the +two invalids were, if not completely cured, at least on the road to +complete recovery, gave them this _exeat_, and about two o'clock in the +afternoon on a fine day in autumn, such as Paris sometimes offers to her +astonished population, who have already laid up a store of resignation +for the winter, the two friends, arm in arm, set foot outside the +Louvre. + +La Mole, finding to his great satisfaction, on an armchair, the famous +cherry-colored mantle which he had folded so carefully before the duel, +undertook to be Coconnas's guide, and Coconnas allowed himself to be +guided without resistance or reflection. He knew that his friend was +taking him to the unknown doctor's whose potion (not patented) had cured +him in a single night, when all of Master Ambroise Paré's drugs were +slowly killing him. He had divided the money in his purse into two +parts, and intended a hundred rose-nobles for the anonymous Esculapius +to whom his recovery was due. Coconnas was not afraid of death, but +Coconnas was not the less satisfied to be alive and well, and so, as we +see, he was intending to recompense his deliverer generously. + +La Mole proceeded along the Rue de l'Astruce, the wide Rue Saint Honoré, +the Rue des Prouvelles, and soon found himself on the Place des Halles. +Near the ancient fountain, at the place which is at the present time +called the Carreau des Halles, was an octagon stone building, surmounted +by a vast wooden lantern, which was again surmounted by a pointed roof, +on the top of which was a weathercock. This wooden lantern had eight +openings, traversed, as that heraldic piece which they call the _fascis_ +traverses the field of blazonry, by a kind of wooden wheel, which was +divided in the middle, in order to admit in the holes cut in it for that +purpose the head and hands of such sentenced person or persons as were +exposed at one or more of these eight openings. + +This singular arrangement, which had nothing like it in the surrounding +buildings, was called the pillory. + +An ill-constructed, irregular, crooked, one-eyed, limping house, the +roof spotted with moss like a leper's skin, had, like a toadstool, +sprung up at the foot of this species of tower. + +This house was the executioner's. + +A man was exposed, and was thrusting out his tongue at the passers-by; +he was one of the robbers who had been following his profession near the +gibbet of Montfaucon, and had by ill luck been arrested in the exercise +of his functions. + +Coconnas believed that his friend had brought him to see this singular +spectacle, and he joined the crowd of sightseers who were replying to +the patient's grimaces by vociferations and gibes. + +Coconnas was naturally cruel, and the sight very much amused him, only +he would have preferred that instead of gibes and vociferations they had +thrown stones at a convict so insolent as to thrust out his tongue at +the noble lords that condescended to visit him. + +So when the moving lantern was turned on its base, in order to show the +culprit to another portion of the square, and the crowd followed, +Coconnas would have accompanied them, had not La Mole checked him, +saying, in a low tone: + +"We did not come here for this." + +"Well, what did we come for, then?" asked Coconnas. + +"You will see," replied La Mole. + +The two friends had got into the habit of addressing each other with the +familiar "thee" and "thou" ever since the morning of that famous night +when Coconnas had tried to thrust his poniard into La Mole's vitals. And +he led Coconnas directly to a small window in the house which abutted on +the tower; a man was leaning on the window-sill. + +"Aha! here you are, gentlemen," said the man, raising his blood-red cap, +and showing his thick black hair, which came down to his eyebrows. "You +are welcome." + +"Who is this man?" inquired Coconnas, endeavoring to recollect, for it +seemed to him he had seen that face during one of the crises of his +fever. + +"Your preserver, my dear friend," replied La Mole; "he who brought to +you at the Louvre that refreshing drink which did you so much good." + +"Oho!" said Coconnas; "in that case, my friend"-- + +And he held out his hand to him. + +But the man, instead of returning the gesture, drew himself up and +withdrew from the two friends just the distance occupied by the curve of +his body. + +"Sir!" he said to Coconnas, "thanks for the honor you wish to confer on +me, but it is probable that if you knew me you would not do so." + +"Faith!" said Coconnas, "I declare that, even if you were the devil +himself, I am very greatly obliged to you, for if it had not been for +you I should be dead at this time." + +"I am not exactly the devil," replied the man in the red cap; "but yet +persons are frequently found who would rather see the devil than me." + +"Who are you, pray?" asked Coconnas. + +"Sir," replied the man, "I am Maître Caboche, the executioner of the +provostry of Paris"-- + +"Ah"--said Coconnas, withdrawing his hand. + +"You see!" said Maître Caboche. + +"No, no; I will touch your hand, or may the devil fetch me! Hold it +out"-- + +"Really?" + +"Wide as you can." + +"Here it is." + +"Open it--wider--wider!" + +And Coconnas took from his pocket the handful of gold he had prepared +for his anonymous physician and placed it in the executioner's hand. + +"I would rather have had your hand entirely and solely," said Maître +Caboche, shaking his head, "for I do not lack money, but I am in need +of hands to touch mine. Never mind. God bless you, my dear gentleman." + +"So then, my friend," said Coconnas, looking at the executioner with +curiosity, "it is you who put men to the rack, who break them on the +wheel, quarter them, cut off heads, and break bones. Aha! I am very glad +to have made your acquaintance." + +"Sir," said Maître Caboche, "I do not do all myself; just as you noble +gentlemen have your lackeys to do what you do not choose to do yourself, +so have I my assistants, who do the coarser work and despatch clownish +fellows. Only when, by chance, I have to do with folks of quality, like +you and your companion, for instance, ah! then it is another thing, and +I take a pride in doing everything myself, from first to last,--that is +to say, from the first putting of the _question_, to the decapitation." + +In spite of himself, Coconnas felt a shudder pervade his veins, as if +the brutal wedge was pressing his leg--as if the edge of the axe was +against his neck. + +La Mole, without being able to account for it, felt the same sensation. + +But Coconnas overcame the emotion, of which he was ashamed, and desirous +of taking leave of Maître Caboche with a jest on his lips, said to him: + +"Well, master, I hold you to your word, and when it is my turn to mount +Enguerrand de Marigny's gallows or Monsieur de Nemours's scaffold you +alone shall lay hands on me." + +"I promise you." + +"Then, this time here is my hand, as a pledge that I accept your +promise," said Coconnas. + +And he offered the executioner his hand, which the latter touched +timidly with his own, although it was evident that he had a great desire +to grasp it warmly. + +At this light touch Coconnas turned rather pale; but the same smile +lingered on his lips, while La Mole, ill at ease, and seeing the crowd +turn as the lantern did and come toward them, touched his cloak. + +Coconnas, who in reality had as great a desire as La Mole to put an end +to this scene, which by the natural bent of his character he had delayed +longer than he would have wished, nodded to the executioner and went his +way. + +"Faith!" said La Mole, when he and his companion had reached the Croix +du Trahoir, "I must confess we breathe more freely here than in the +Place des Halles." + +"Decidedly," replied Coconnas; "but I am none the less glad at having +made Maître Caboche's acquaintance. It is well to have friends +everywhere." + +"Even at the sign of the _Belle Étoile_," said La Mole, laughing. + +"Oh! as for poor Maître La Hurière," said Coconnas, "he is dead and dead +again. I saw the arquebuse spitting flame, I heard the thump of the +bullet, which sounded as if it had struck against the great bell of +Notre-Dame, and I left him stretched out in the gutter with streams of +blood flowing from his nose and mouth. Taking it for granted that he is +a friend, he is a friend we shall have in the next world." + +Thus chatting, the two young men entered the Rue de l'Arbre Sec and +proceeded toward the sign of the _Belle Étoile_, which was still +creaking in the same place, still presenting to the traveller its +astronomic hearth and its appetizing inscription. Coconnas and La Mole +expected to find the house in a desperate state, the widow in mourning, +and the little ones wearing crêpe on their arms; but to their great +astonishment they found the house in full swing of activity, Madame La +Hurière mightily resplendent, and the children gayer than ever. + +"Oh, the faithless creature!" cried La Mole; "she must have married +again." + +Then addressing the new Artémise: + +"Madame," said he, "we are two gentlemen, acquaintances of poor Monsieur +La Hurière. We left here two horses and two portmanteaus which we have +come to claim." + +"Gentlemen," replied the mistress of the house, after she had tried to +bring them to her recollection, "as I have not the honor of knowing you, +with your permission I will go and call my husband. Grégoire, ask your +master to come." + +Grégoire stepped from the first kitchen, which was the general +pandemonium, into the second, which was the laboratory where Maître La +Hurière in his life-time had been in the habit of concocting the dishes +which he felt deserved to be prepared by his clever hands. + +"The devil take me," muttered Coconnas, "if it does not make me feel +badly to see this house so gay when it ought to be so melancholy. Poor +La Hurière!" + +"He tried to kill me," said La Mole, "but I pardon him with all my +heart." + +La Mole had hardly uttered these words when a man appeared holding in +his hand a stew-pan, in the bottom of which he was browning some onions, +stirring them with a wooden spoon. + +La Mole and Coconnas gave vent to a cry of amazement. + +As they did so the man lifted his head and, replying by a similar cry, +dropped his stew-pan, retaining in his hand only his wooden spoon. + +_In nomine Patris_," said the man, waving his spoon as he would have +done with a holy-water sprinkler, "_et Filii, et Spiritus sancti_"-- + +"Maître La Hurière!" exclaimed the two young men. + +"Messieurs de Coconnas and de la Mole!" cried La Hurière. + +"So you are not dead?" asked Coconnas. + +"Why! can it be that you are alive?" asked the landlord. + +"Nevertheless, I saw you fall," said Coconnas, "I heard the crash of the +bullet, which broke something in you, I don't know what. I left you +lying in the gutter, with blood streaming out of your nose, out of your +mouth, and even out of your eyes." + +"All that is as true as the gospel, Monsieur de Coconnas. But the noise +you heard was the bullet striking against my sallat, on which +fortunately it flattened itself; but the blow was none the less severe, +and the proof of it," added La Hurière, lifting his cap and displaying a +pate as bald as a man's knee, "is that as you see I have not a spear of +hair left." + +The two young men burst out laughing when they saw his grotesque +appearance. + +"Aha! you laugh, do you?" said La Hurière, somewhat reassured, "you do +not come, then, with any evil intentions." + +"Now tell us, Maître La Hurière, are you entirely cured of your +bellicose inclinations?" + +"Faith, that I am, gentlemen; and now"-- + +"Well, and now"-- + +"Now I have vowed not to meddle with any other fire than that in my +kitchen." + +"Bravo!" cried Coconnas, "see how prudent he is! Now," added the +Piedmontese, "we left in your stables two horses, and in your rooms two +portmanteaus." + +"Oh, the devil!" replied the landlord, scratching his ear. + +"Well?" + +"Two horses, you say?" + +"Yes, in your stable." + +"And two portmanteaus?" + +"Yes, in the rooms we had." + +"The truth is, don't you see--you thought I was dead, didn't you?" + +"Certainly we did." + +"You will agree that as you were mistaken, I also might be." + +"What? In believing that we also were dead? You were perfectly free." + +"Now that's it. You see, as you died intestate," continued Maître La +Hurière. + +"Go on"-- + +"I believed something, I was mistaken, I see it now"-- + +"Tell us, what was it you believed?" + +"I believed that I might consider myself your heir." + +"Oho!" exclaimed the two young men. + +"Nevertheless, I could not be more grateful to find that you are alive, +gentlemen." + +"So you sold our horses, did you?" asked Coconnas. + +"Alas!" cried La Hurière. + +"And our portmanteaus?" insisted La Mole. + +"Oh! your portmanteaus? Oh, no," cried La Hurière, "only what was in +them." + +"Now look here, La Mole," persisted Coconnas, "it seems to me that this +is a bold rascal; suppose we disembowel him!" + +This threat seemed to have great effect on Maître La Hurière, who +stammered out these words: + +"Well, gentlemen, I rather think the affair can be arranged." + +"Listen!" said La Mole, "I am the one who has the greatest cause of +complaint against you." + +"Certainly, Monsieur le Comte, for I recollect that in a moment of +madness I had the audacity to threaten you." + +"Yes, with a bullet which flew only a couple of inches above my head." + +"Do you think so?" + +"I am certain of it." + +"If you are certain of it, Monsieur de la Mole," said La Hurière, +picking up his stew-pan with an innocent air, "I am too thoroughly at +your service to give you the lie." + +"Well," said La Mole, "as far as I am concerned I make no demand upon +you." + +"What, my dear gentleman"-- + +"Except"-- + +"Aïe! aïe!" groaned La Hurière. + +"Except a dinner for myself and my friends every time I find myself in +your neighborhood." + +"How is this?" exclaimed La Hurière in an ecstasy. "I am at your +service, my dear gentleman; I am at your service." + +"So it is a bargain, is it?" + +"With all my heart--and you, Monsieur de Coconnas," continued the +landlord, "do you agree to the bargain?" + +"Yes; but, like my friend, I must add one small condition." + +"What is that?" + +"That you restore to Monsieur de la Mole the fifty crowns which I owe +him, and which I put into your keeping." + +"To me, sir? When was that?" + +"A quarter of an hour before you sold my horse and my portmanteau." + +La Hurière showed that he understood. + +"Ah! I remember," said he; and he stepped toward a cupboard and took out +from it, one after the other, fifty crowns, which he brought to La Mole. + +"Very well, sir," said that gentleman; "very well. Serve me an omelet. +The fifty crowns are for Grégoire." + +"Oh!" cried La Hurière; "in truth, my dear gentlemen, you are genuine +princes, and you may count on me for life and for death." + +"If that is so," said Coconnas, "make us the omelet we want, and spare +neither butter nor lard." + +Then looking at the clock, + +"Faith, you are right, La Mole," said he, "we still have three hours to +wait, and we may as well be here as anywhere else. All the more because, +if I am not mistaken, we are already half way to the Pont Saint Michel." + +And the two young men went and sat down at table in the very same room +and at the very same place which they had occupied during that memorable +evening of the twenty-sixth of August, 1572, when Coconnas had proposed +to La Mole to play each against the other the first mistress which they +should have! + +Let us grant for the honor of the morality of our two young men that +neither of them this evening had the least idea of making such a +proposition to his companion. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX. + +THE ABODE OF MAÎTRE RÉNÉ, PERFUMER TO THE QUEEN MOTHER. + + +At the period of this history there existed in Paris, for passing from +one part of the city to another, but five bridges, some of stone and the +others of wood, and they all led to the Cité; there were le Pont des +Meuniers, le Pont au Change, le Pont Notre-Dame, le Petit Pont, and le +Pont Saint Michel. + +In other places when there was need of crossing the river there were +ferries. + +These five bridges were loaded with houses like the Pont Vecchio at +Florence at the present time. Of these five bridges, each of which has +its history, we shall now speak more particularly of the Pont Saint +Michel. + +The Pont Saint Michel had been built of stone in 1373; in spite of its +apparent solidity, a freshet in the Seine undermined a part of it on the +thirty-first of January, 1408; in 1416 it had been rebuilt of wood; but +during the night of December 16, 1547, it was again carried away; about +1550, in other words twenty-two years anterior to the epoch which we +have reached, it was again built of wood, and though it needed repairs +it was regarded as solid enough. + +In the midst of the houses which bordered the line of the bridge, facing +the small islet on which the Templers had been burnt, and where at the +present time the platform of the Pont Neuf rests, stood a wooden +panelled house over which a large roof impended like the lid of an +immense eye. At the only window, which opened on the first story, over +the window and door of the ground floor, hermetically sealed, shone a +reddish light, which attracted the attention of the passers-by to the +low, wide façade, painted blue, with rich gold mouldings. A kind of +frieze separating the ground floor from the first floor represented +groups of devils in the most grotesque postures imaginable; and a wide +scroll painted blue like the façade ran between the frieze and the +window, with this inscription: "RÉNÉ, FLORENTIN, PERFUMER DE SA MAJESTÉ +LA REINE MÈRE." + +The door of this shop was, as we have said, well bolted; but it was +defended from nocturnal attacks better than by bolts by its occupant's +reputation, so redoubtable that the passengers over the bridge usually +described a curve which took them to the opposite row of houses, as if +they feared the very smell of the perfumes that might exhale through the +walls. + +More than this, the right and left hand neighbors, doubtless fearing +that they might be compromised by the proximity, had, since Maître +Réné's occupancy of the house, taken their departure one after the other +so that the two houses next to Réné's were left empty and closed. Yet, +in spite of this solitude and desertedness, belated passers-by had +frequently seen, glittering through the crevices of the shutters of +these empty habitations, strange rays of light, and had felt certain +they heard strange noises like groans, which proved that some beings +frequented these abodes, although they did not know if they belonged to +this world or the other. + +The result was that the tenants of the two buildings contiguous to the +two empty houses from time to time queried whether it would not be wise +in them to do as their neighbors had done. + +It was, doubtless, owing to the privilege which the dread of him, widely +circulated, had procured for him, that Maître Réné had ventured to keep +up a light after the prescribed hour. No round or guard, moreover, would +have dared to molest him, a man doubly dear to her majesty as her +fellow-countryman and perfumer. + +As we suppose that the reader, panoplied by the philosophical wisdom of +this century, no longer believes in magic or magicians, we will invite +him to accompany us into this dwelling which, at that epoch of +superstitious faith, shed around it such a profound terror. + +The shop on the ground floor is dark and deserted after eight o'clock in +the evening--the hour at which it closes, not to open again until next +morning; there it is that the daily sale of perfumery, unguents, and +cosmetics of all kinds, such as a skilful chemist makes, takes place. +Two apprentices aid him in the retail business, but do not sleep in the +house; they lodge in the Rue de la Colandre. + +In the evening they take their departure an instant before the shop +closes; in the morning they wait at the door until it opens. + +This ground-floor shop is therefore dark and deserted, as we have said. + +In this shop, which is large and deep, there are two doors, each leading +to a staircase. One of these staircases is in the wall itself and is +lateral, and the other is exterior and visible from the quay now called +the Quai des Augustins, and from the riverbank, now called the Quai des +Orfévres. + +Both lead to the principal room on the first floor. This room is of the +same size as the ground floor, except that it is divided into two +compartments by tapestry suspended in the centre and parallel to the +bridge. At the end of the first compartment opens the door leading to +the exterior staircase. On the side face of the second opens the door of +the secret staircase. This door is invisible, being concealed by a large +carved cupboard fastened to it by iron cramps, and moving with it when +pushed open. Catharine alone, besides Réné, knows the secret of this +door, and by it she comes and departs; and with eye or ear placed +against the cupboard, in which are several small holes, she sees and +hears all that occurs in the chamber. + +Two other doors, visible to all eyes, present themselves at the sides of +the second compartment. One opens into a small chamber lighted from the +roof, and having nothing in it but a large stove, some alembecs, +retorts, and crucibles: it is the alchemist's laboratory; the other +opens into a cell more singular than the rest of the apartment, for it +is not lighted at all--has neither carpet nor furniture, but only a kind +of stone altar. + +The floor slopes from the centre to the ends, and from the ends to the +base of the wall is a kind of gutter ending in a funnel, through whose +orifice may be seen the dark waters of the Seine. On nails driven into +the walls are hung singular-shaped instruments, all keen or pointed with +points as fine as a needle and edges as sharp as a razor; some shine +like mirrors; others, on the contrary, are of a dull gray or murky blue. + + +In a corner are two black fowls struggling with each other and tied +together by the claws. This is the soothsayer's sanctuary. + +Let us return to the middle chamber, that with two compartments. + +Here the common herd of clients are introduced; here ibises from Egypt; +mummies, with gilded bands; the crocodile, yawning from the ceiling; +death's-heads, with eyeless sockets and loose teeth; and old musty +volumes, torn and rat-eaten, are presented to the visitor's eye in +pellmell confusion. Behind the curtain are phials, singularly shaped +boxes, and weird-looking vases; all this is lighted up by two small +silver lamps exactly alike, perhaps stolen from some altar of Santa +Maria Novella or the Church Dei Lervi of Florence; these, supplied with +perfumed oil, cast their yellow flames around the sombre vault from +which each hangs by three blackened chains. + +Réné, alone, his arms crossed, is pacing up and down the second +compartment with long strides, and shaking his head. After a lengthened +and painful musing he pauses before an hour-glass: + +"Ah! ah!" says he, "I forget to turn it; and perhaps the sand has all +run through a long time ago." + +Then, looking at the moon as it struggled through a heavy black cloud +which seemed to hang over Notre-Dame, he said: "It is nine o'clock. If +she comes, she will come, as usual, in an hour or an hour and a half; +then there will be time for all." + +At this moment a noise was heard on the bridge. Réné applied his ear to +the orifice of a long tube, the other end of which reached down the +street, terminating in a heraldic viper-head. + +"No," he said, "it is neither _she_ nor _they_; it is men's footsteps, +and they stop at my door--they are coming here." + +And three sharp knocks were heard at the door. + +Réné hurried downstairs and put his ear against the door, without +opening it. + +The three sharp blows were repeated. + +"Who's there?" asked Maître Réné. + +"Must we mention our names?" inquired a voice. + +"It is indispensable," replied Réné. + +"Well, then, I am the Comte Annibal de Coconnas," said the same voice. + +"And I am the Comte Lerac de la Mole," said another voice, which had not +as yet been heard. + +"Wait, wait, gentlemen, I am at your service." + +And at the same moment Réné drew the bolts and, lifting the bars, opened +the door to the two young men locking it after him. Then, conducting +them by the exterior staircase, he introduced them into the second +compartment. + +La Mole, as he entered, made the sign of the cross under his cloak. He +was pale, and his hand trembled without his being able to repress this +symptom of weakness. + +Coconnas looked at everything, one after the other; and seeing the door +of the cell, was about to open it. + +"Allow me to observe, my dear young gentleman," said Réné, in his deep +voice, and placing his hand on Coconnas's, "those that do me the honor +of a visit have access only to this part of the room." + +"Oh, very well," replied Coconnas; "besides, I feel like sitting down." +And he took a seat. + +There was unbroken silence for a moment--Maître Réné was waiting for one +or the other of the young men to open the conversation. + +"Maître Réné," at length said Coconnas, "you are a skilful man, and I +pray you tell me if I shall always remain a sufferer from my wound--that +is, always experience this shortness of breath, which prevents me from +riding on horseback, using my sword, and eating larded omelettes?" + +Réné put his ear to Coconnas's chest and listened attentively to the +play of the lungs. + +"No, Monsieur le Comte," he replied, "you will get well." + +"Really?" + +"Yes, I assure you." + +"Well, you fill me with delight." + +There was silence once more. + +"Is there nothing else you would desire to know, M. le Comte?" + +"I wish to know," said Coconnas, "if I am really in love?" + +"You are," replied Réné. + +"How do you know?" + +"Because you asked the question." + +"By Heaven! you are right. But with whom?" + +"With her who now, on every occasion, uses the oath you have just +uttered." + +"Ah!" said Coconnas, amazed; "Maître Réné, you are a clever man! Now, La +Mole, it is your turn." + +La Mole reddened, and seemed embarrassed. + +"I, Monsieur Réné," he stammered, and speaking more firmly as he +proceeded, "do not care to ask you if I am in love, for I know that I +am, and I do not hide it from myself; but tell me, shall I be beloved in +return? for, in truth, all that at first seemed propitious now turns +against me." + +"Perchance you have not done all you should do." + +"What is there to do, sir, but to testify, by one's respect and devotion +to the lady of one's thoughts, that she is really and profoundly +beloved?" + +"You know," replied Réné, "that these demonstrations are frequently very +meaningless." + +"Then must I despair?" + +"By no means; we must have recourse to science. In human nature there +are antipathies to be overcome--sympathies which may be forced. Iron is +not the lodestone; but by rubbing it with a lodestone we make it, in its +turn, attract iron." + +"Yes, yes," muttered La Mole; "but I have an objection to all these +sorceries." + +"Ah, then, if you have any such objections, you should not come here," +answered Réné. + +"Come, come, this is child's play!" interposed Coconnas. "Maître Réné, +can you show me the devil?" + +"No, Monsieur le Comte." + +"I'm sorry for that; for I had a word or two to say to him, and it might +have encouraged La Mole." + +"Well, then, let it be so," said La Mole, "let us go to the point at +once. I have been told of figures modelled in wax to look like the +beloved object. Is that one way?" + +"An infallible one." + +"And there is nothing in the experiment likely to affect the life or +health of the person beloved?" + +"Nothing." + +"Let us try, then." + +"Shall I make first trial?" said Coconnas. + +"No," said La Mole, "since I have begun, I will go through to the end." + +"Is your desire mighty, ardent, imperious to know what the obstacle is, +Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Oh," exclaimed La Mole, "I am dying with anxiety." + +At this moment some one rapped lightly at the street door--so lightly +that no one but Maître Réné heard the noise, doubtless because he had +been expecting it. + +Without any hesitation he went to the speaking-tube and put his ear to +the mouthpiece, at the same time asking La Mole several idle questions. +Then he added, suddenly: + +"Now put all your energy into your wish, and call the person whom you +love." + +La Mole knelt, as if about to address a divinity; and Réné, going into +the other compartment, went out noiselessly by the exterior staircase, +and an instant afterward light steps trod the floor of his shop. + +When La Mole rose he beheld before him Maître Réné. The Florentine held +in his hand a small wax figure, very indifferently modelled; it wore a +crown and mantle. + +"Do you desire to be always beloved by your royal mistress?" demanded +the perfumer. + +"Yes, even if it cost me my life--even if my soul should be the +sacrifice!" replied La Mole. + +"Very good," said the Florentine, taking with the ends of his fingers +some drops of water from a ewer and sprinkling them over the figure, at +the same time muttering certain Latin words. + +La Mole shuddered, believing that some sacrilege was committed. + +"What are you doing?" he asked. + +"I am christening this figure with the name of Marguerite." + +"What for?" + +"To establish a sympathy." + +La Mole opened his mouth to prevent his going any further, but a mocking +look from Coconnas stopped him. + +Réné, who had noticed the impulse, waited. "Your absolute and undivided +will is necessary," he said. + +"Go on," said La Mole. + +Réné wrote on a small strip of red paper some cabalistic characters, put +it into the eye of a steel needle, and with the needle pierced the small +wax model in the heart. + +Strange to say, at the orifice of the wound appeared a small drop of +blood; then he set fire to the paper. + +The heat of the needle melted the wax around it and dried up the spot of +blood. + +"Thus," said Réné, "by the power of sympathy, your love shall pierce and +burn the heart of the woman whom you love." + +Coconnas, true to his repute as a bold thinker, laughed in his mustache, +and in a low tone jested; but La Mole, desperately in love and full of +superstition, felt a cold perspiration start from the roots of his hair. + +"And now," continued Réné, "press your lips to the lips of the figure, +and say: 'Marguerite, I love thee! Come, Marguerite!'" + +La Mole obeyed. + +At this moment the door of the second chamber was heard to open, and +light steps approached. Coconnas, curious and incredulous, drew his +poniard, and fearing that if he raised the tapestry Réné would repeat +what he said about the door, he cut a hole in the thick curtain, and +applying his eye to the hole, uttered a cry of astonishment, to which +two women's voices responded. + +"What is it?" exclaimed La Mole, nearly dropping the waxen figure, which +Réné caught from his hands. + +"Why," replied Coconnas, "the Duchesse de Nevers and Madame Marguerite +are there!" + +"There, now, you unbelievers!" replied Réné, with an austere smile; "do +you still doubt the force of sympathy?" + +La Mole was petrified on seeing the queen; Coconnas was amazed at +beholding Madame de Nevers. One believed that Réné's sorceries had +evoked the phantom Marguerite; the other, seeing the door half open, by +which the lovely phantoms had entered, gave at once a worldly and +substantial explanation to the mystery. + +While La Mole was crossing himself and sighing enough to split a rock, +Coconnas, who had taken time to indulge in philosophical questionings +and to drive away the foul fiend with the aid of that holy water +sprinkler called scepticism, having observed, through the hole in the +curtain, the astonishment shown by Madame de Nevers and Marguerite's +somewhat caustic smile, judged the moment to be decisive, and +understanding that a man may say in behalf of a friend what he cannot +say for himself, instead of going to Madame de Nevers, went straight to +Marguerite, and bending his knee, after the fashion of the great +Artaxerxes as represented in the farces of the day, cried, in a voice to +which the whistling of his wound added a peculiar accent not without +some power: + +"Madame, this very moment, at the demand of my friend the Comte de la +Mole, Maître Réné was evoking your spirit; and to my great astonishment, +your spirit is accompanied with a body most dear to me, and which I +recommend to my friend. Shade of her majesty the Queen of Navarre, will +you desire the body of your companion to come to the other side of the +curtain?" + +Marguerite began to laugh, and made a sign to Henriette, who passed to +the other side of the curtain. + +"La Mole, my friend," continued Coconnas, "be as eloquent as +Demosthenes, as Cicero, as the Chancellor de l'Hôpital! and be assured +that my life will be imperilled if you do not persuade the body of +Madame de Nevers that I am her most devoted, most obedient, and most +faithful servant." + +"But"--stammered La Mole. + +"Do as I say! And you, Maître Réné, watch that we are not interrupted." + +Réné did as Coconnas asked. + +"By Heaven, monsieur," said Marguerite, "you are a clever man. I am +listening to you. What have you to say?" + +"I have to say to you, madame, that the shadow of my friend--for he is a +shadow, and he proves it by not uttering a single little word--I say, +that this shadow begs me to use the faculty which material bodies +possess of speaking so as to be understood, and to say to you: Lovely +shadow, the gentleman thus disembodied has lost his whole body and all +his breath by the cruelty of your eyes. If this were really you, I +should ask Maître Réné to plunge me in some sulphurous pit rather than +use such language to the daughter of King Henry II., to the sister of +King Charles IX., to the wife of the King of Navarre. But shades are +freed from all earthly pride and they are never angry when men love +them. Therefore, pray your body, madame, to love the soul of this poor +La Mole a little--a soul in trouble, if ever there was one; a soul first +persecuted by friendship, which three times thrust into him several +inches of cold steel; a soul burnt by the fire of your eyes--fire a +thousand times more consuming than all the flames of hell. So have pity +on this poor soul! Love a little what was the handsome La Mole; and if +you no longer possess speech, ah! bestow a gesture, bestow a smile upon +him. My friend's soul is a very intelligent soul, and will comprehend +everything. Be kind to him, then; or, by Heaven! I will run my sword +through Réné's body in order that, by virtue of the power which he +possesses over spirits, he may force yours, which he has already so +opportunely evoked, to do all a shade so amiably disposed as yours +appears to be should do." + +At this burst of eloquence delivered by Coconnas as he stood in front of +the queen like Æneas descending into Hades, Marguerite could not refrain +from a hearty burst of laughter, yet, preserving the silence which on +such an occasion may be the supposed characteristic of a royal shade, +she presented her hand to Coconnas. He took it daintily in his, and, +calling to La Mole, said: + +"Shade of my friend, come hither instantly!" + +La Mole, amazed, overcome, silently obeyed. + +"'T is well," said Coconnas, taking him by the back of the head; "and +now bring the shadow of your handsome brown countenance into contact +with the white and vaporous hand before you." + +And Coconnas, suiting the action to the word, raised the delicate hand +to La Mole's lips, and kept them for a moment respectfully united, +without the hand seeking to withdraw itself from the gentle pressure. + +Marguerite had not ceased to smile, but Madame de Nevers did not smile +at all; she was still trembling at the unexpected appearance of the two +gentlemen. She was conscious that her awkwardness was increased by all +the fever of a growing jealousy, for it seemed to her that Coconnas +ought not thus to forget her affairs for those of others. + +La Mole saw her eyebrows contracted, detected the flashing threat of her +eyes, and in spite of the intoxicating fever to which his delight was +insensibly urging him to succumb he realized the danger which his friend +was running and perceived what he should try to do to rescue him. + +So rising and leaving Marguerite's hand in Coconnas's, he grasped the +Duchesse de Nevers's, and bending his knee he said: + +"O loveliest--O most adorable of women--I speak of living women, and not +of shades!" and he turned a look and a smile to Marguerite; "allow a +soul released from its mortal envelope to repair the absence of a body +fully absorbed by material friendship. Monsieur de Coconnas, whom you +see, is only a man--a man of bold and hardy frame, of flesh handsome to +gaze upon perchance, but perishable, like all flesh. _Omnis caro fenum._ +Although this gentleman keeps on from morning to night pouring into my +ears the most touching litanies about you, though you have seen him +distribute as heavy blows as were ever seen in wide France--this +champion, so full of eloquence in presence of a spirit, dares not +address a woman. That is why he has addressed the shade of the queen, +charging me to speak to your lovely body, and to tell you that he lays +at your feet his soul and heart; that he entreats from your divine eyes +a look in pity, from your rosy fingers a beckoning sign, and from your +musical and heavenly voice those words which men can never forget; if +not, he has supplicated another thing, and that is, in case he should +not soften you, you will run my sword--which is a real blade, for swords +have no shadows except in the sunshine--run my sword right through his +body for the second time, for he can live no longer if you do not +authorize him to live exclusively for you." All the verve and comical +exaggeration which Coconnas had put into his speech found their +counterpart in the tenderness, the intoxicating vigor, and the mock +humility which La Mole introduced into his supplication. + +Henriette's eyes turned from La Mole, to whom she had listened till he +ended, and rested on Coconnas, to see if the expression of that +gentleman's countenance harmonized with his friend's ardent address. It +seemed that she was satisfied, for blushing, breathless, conquered, she +said to Coconnas, with a smile which disclosed a double row of pearls +enclosed in coral: + +"Is this true?" + +"By Heaven!" exclaimed Coconnas, fascinated by her look, "it is true, +indeed. Oh, yes, madame, it is true--true on your life--true on my +death!" + +"Come with me, then," said Henriette, extending to him her hand, while +her eyes proclaimed the feelings of her heart. + +Coconnas flung his velvet cap into the air and with one stride was at +the young woman's side, while La Mole, recalled to Marguerite by a +gesture, executed at the same time an amorous _chassez_ with his friend. + +Réné appeared at the door in the background. + +"Silence!" he exclaimed, in a voice which at once damped all the ardor +of the lovers; "silence!" + +And they heard in the solid wall the sound of a key in a lock, and of a +door grating on its hinges. + +"But," said Marguerite, haughtily, "I should think that no one has the +right to enter whilst we are here!" + +"Not even the queen mother?" whispered Réné in her ear. + +Marguerite instantly rushed out by the exterior staircase, leading La +Mole after her; Henriette and Coconnas almost arm-in-arm followed them, +all four taking flight, as fly at the first noise the birds seen +engaged in loving parley on the boughs of a flowering shrub. + + + + +CHAPTER XX. + +THE BLACK HENS. + + +It was time the two couples disappeared! Catharine was putting the key +in the lock of the second door just as Coconnas and Madame de Nevers +stepped out of the house by the lower entrance, and Catharine as she +entered could hear the steps of the fugitives on the stairs. + +She cast a searching glance around, and then fixing her suspicious eyes +on Réné, who stood motionless, bowing before her, said: + +"Who was that?" + +"Some lovers, who are satisfied with the assurance I gave them that they +are really in love." + +"Never mind them," said Catharine, shrugging her shoulders; "is there no +one else here?" + +"No one but your majesty and myself." + +"Have you done what I ordered you?" + +"About the two black hens?" + +"Yes!" + +"They are ready, madame." + +"Ah," muttered Catharine, "if you were a Jew!" + +"Why a Jew, madame?" + +"Because you could then read the precious treatises which the Hebrews +have written about sacrifices. I have had one of them translated, and I +found that the Hebrews did not look for omens in the heart or liver as +the Romans did, but in the configuration of the brain, and in the shape +of the letters traced there by the all-powerful hand of destiny." + +"Yes, madame; so I have heard from an old rabbi." + +"There are," said Catharine, "characters thus marked that reveal all the +future. Only the Chaldean seers recommend"-- + +"Recommend--what?" asked Réné, seeing the queen hesitate. + +"That the experiment shall be tried on the human brain, as more +developed and more nearly sympathizing with the wishes of the +consulter." + +"Alas!" said Réné, "your majesty knows it is impossible." + +"Difficult, at least," said Catharine; "if we had known this at Saint +Bartholomew's, what a rich harvest we might have had--The first +convict--but I will think of it. Meantime, let us do what we can. Is the +chamber of sacrifice prepared?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Let us go there." + +Réné lighted a taper made of strange substances, the odor of which, both +insidious and penetrating as well as nauseating and stupefying, +betokened the introduction of many elements; holding this taper up, he +preceded Catharine into the cell. + +Catharine selected from amongst the sacrificial instruments a knife of +blue steel, while Réné took up one of the two fowls that were huddling +in one corner, with anxious, golden eyes. + +"How shall we proceed?" + +"We will examine the liver of the one and the brain of the other. If +these two experiments lead to the same result we must be convinced, +especially if these results coincide with those we got before." + +"Which shall we begin with?" + +"With the liver." + +"Very well," said Réné, and he fastened the bird down to two rings +attached to the little altar, so that the creature, turned on its back, +could only struggle, without stirring from the spot. + +Catharine opened its breast with a single stroke of her knife; the fowl +uttered three cries, and, after some convulsions, expired. + +"Always three cries!" said Catharine; "three signs of death." + +She then opened the body. + +"And the liver inclining to the left, always to the left,--a triple +death, followed by a downfall. 'T is terrible, Réné." + +"We must see, madame, whether the presages from the second will +correspond with those of the first." + +Réné unfastened the body of the fowl from the altar and tossed it into a +corner; then he went to the other, which, foreseeing what its fate would +be by its companion's, tried to escape by running round the cell, and +finding itself pent up in a corner flew over Réné's head, and in its +flight extinguished the magic taper Catharine held. + +"You see, Réné, thus shall our race be extinguished," said the queen; +"death shall breathe upon it, and destroy it from the face of the earth! +Yet three sons! three sons!" she murmured, sorrowfully. + +Réné took from her the extinguished taper, and went into the adjoining +room to relight it. + +On his return he saw the hen hiding its head in the tunnel. + +"This time," said Catharine, "I will prevent the cries, for I will cut +off the head at once." + +And accordingly, as soon as the hen was bound, Catharine, as she had +said, severed the head at a single blow; but in the last agony the beak +opened three times, and then closed forever. + +"Do you see," said Catharine, terrified, "instead of three cries, three +sighs? Always three!--they will all three die. All these spirits before +they depart count and call three. Let us now see the prognostications in +the head." + +She severed the bloodless comb from the head, carefully opened the +skull, and laying bare the lobes of the brain endeavored to trace a +letter formed in the bloody sinuosities made by the division of the +central pulp. + +"Always so!" cried she, clasping her hands; "and this time clearer than +ever; see here!" + +Réné approached. + +"What is the letter?" asked Catharine. + +"An H," replied Réné. + +"How many times repeated?" + +Réné counted. + +"Four," said he. + +"Ay, ay! I see it! that is to say, HENRY IV. Oh," she cried, flinging +the knife from her, "I am accursed in my posterity!" + +She was terrible, that woman, pale as a corpse, lighted by the dismal +taper, and clasping her bloody hands. + +"He will reign!" she exclaimed with a sigh of despair; "he will reign!" + +"He will reign!" repeated Réné, plunged in meditation. + +Nevertheless, the gloomy expression of Catharine's face soon disappeared +under the light of a thought which unfolded in the depths of her mind. + +"Réné," said she, stretching out her hand toward the perfumer without +lifting her head from her breast, "Réné, is there not a terrible history +of a doctor at Perugia, who killed at once, by the aid of a pomade,[7] +his daughter and his daughter's lover?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"And this lover was"-- + +"Was King Ladislas, madame." + +"Ah, yes!" murmured she; "have you any of the details of this story?" + +"I have an old book which mentions it," replied Réné. + +"Well, let us go into the other room, and you can show it me." + +They left the cell, the door of which Réné closed after him. + +"Has your majesty any other orders to give me concerning the +sacrifices?" + +"No, Réné, I am for the present sufficiently convinced. We will wait +till we can secure the head of some criminal, and on the day of the +execution you must arrange with the hangman." + +Réné bowed in token of obedience, then holding his candle up he let the +light fall on the shelves where his books stood, climbed on a chair, +took one down, and handed it to the queen. + +Catharine opened it. + +"What is this?" she asked; "'On the Method of Raising and Training +Tercels, Falcons, and Gerfalcons to be Courageous, Valiant, and always +ready for Flight.'" + +"Ah! pardon me, madame, I made a mistake. That is a treatise on venery +written by a scientific man of Lucca for the famous Castruccio +Castracani. It stood next the other and was bound exactly like it. I +took down the wrong one. However, it is a very precious volume; there +are only three copies extant--one belongs to the library at Venice, the +other was bought by your grandfather Lorenzo and was offered by Pietro +de Médicis to King Charles VIII., when he visited Florence, and the +third you have in your hands." + +"I venerate it," said Catharine, "because of its rarity, but as I do not +need it, I return it to you." + +And she held out her right hand to Réné to receive the book which she +wished, while with her left hand she returned to him the one which she +had first taken. + +This time Réné was not mistaken; it was the volume she wished. He +stepped down, turned the leaves for a moment, and gave it to her open. + +Catharine went and sat down at a table. Réné placed the magic taper near +her and by the light of its bluish flame she read a few lines in an +undertone: + +"Good!" said she, shutting the book; "that is all I wanted to know." + +She rose from her seat, leaving the book on the table, but bearing away +the idea which had germinated in her mind and would ripen there. + +Réné waited respectfully, taper in hand, until the queen, who seemed +about to retire, should give him fresh orders or ask fresh questions. + +Catharine, with her head bent and her finger on her mouth, walked up and +down several times without speaking. + +Then suddenly stopping before Réné, and fixing on him her eyes, round +and piercing like a hawk's: + +"Confess you have made for her some love-philter," said she. + +"For whom?" asked Réné, starting. + +"La Sauve." + +"I, madame?" said Réné; "never!" + +"Never?" + +"I swear it on my soul." + +"There must be some magic in it, however, for he is desperately in love +with her, though he is not famous for his constancy." + +"Who, madame?" + +"He, Henry, the accursed,--he who is to succeed my three sons,--he who +shall one day be called Henry IV., and is yet the son of Jeanne +d'Albret." + +And Catharine accompanied these words with a sigh which made Réné +shudder, for he thought of the famous gloves he had prepared by +Catharine's order for the Queen of Navarre. + +"So he still runs after her, does he?" said Réné. + +"He does," replied the queen. + +"I thought that the King of Navarre was quite in love with his wife +now." + +"A farce, Réné, a farce! I know not why, but every one is seeking to +deceive me. My daughter Marguerite is leagued against me; perhaps she, +too, is looking forward to the death of her brothers; perhaps she, too, +hopes to be Queen of France." + +"Perhaps so," re-echoed Réné, falling back into his own reverie and +echoing Catharine's terrible suspicion. + +"Ha! we shall see," said Catharine, going to the main door, for she +doubtless judged it useless to descend the secret stair, now that she +was sure that they were alone. + +Réné preceded her, and in a few minutes they stood in the perfumer's +shop. + +"You promised me some new kind of cosmetic for my hands and lips, Réné; +the winter is at hand and you know how sensitive my skin is to the +cold." + +"I have already provided for this, madame; and I shall bring you some +to-morrow." + +"You would not find me in before nine o'clock to-morrow evening; I shall +be occupied with my devotions during the day." + +"I will be at the Louvre at nine o'clock, then, madame." + +"Madame de Sauve has beautiful hands and beautiful lips," said Catharine +in a careless tone. "What pomade does she use?" + +"For her hands?" + +"Yes, for her hands first." + +"Heliotrope." + +"What for her lips?" + +"She is going to try a new opiate of my invention. I was going to bring +your majesty a box of it at the same time." + +Catharine mused an instant. + +"She is certainly a very beautiful creature," said she, pursuing her +secret thoughts; "and the passion of the Béarnais for her is not strange +at all." + +"And she is so devoted to your majesty," said Réné. "At least I should +think so." + +Catharine smiled and shrugged her shoulders. + +"When a woman loves, is she faithful to any one but her lover? You must +have given her some philter, Réné." + +"I swear I have not, madame." + +"Well, well; we'll say no more about it. Show me this new opiate you +spoke of, that is to make her lips fresher and rosier than ever." + +Réné approached a shelf and showed Catharine six small boxes of the same +shape, _i.e._, round silver boxes ranged side by side. + +"This is the only philter she ever asked me for," observed Réné; "it is +true, as your majesty says, I composed it expressly for her, for her +lips are so tender that the sun and wind affect them equally." + +Catharine opened one of the boxes; it contained a most fascinating +carmine paste. + +"Give me some paste for my hands, Réné," said she; "I will take it away +with me." + +Réné took the taper, and went to seek, in a private compartment, what +the queen asked for. As he turned, he fancied that he saw the queen +quickly conceal a box under her mantle; he was, however, too familiar +with these little thefts of the queen mother to have the rudeness to +seem to perceive the movement; so wrapping the cosmetic she demanded in +a paper bag, ornamented with fleurs-de-lis: + +"Here it is, madame," he said. + +"Thanks, Réné," returned the queen; then, after a moment's silence: "Do +not give Madame de Sauve that paste for a week or ten days; I wish to +make the first trial of it myself." + +And she prepared to go. + +"Your majesty, do you desire me to accompany you?" asked Réné. + +"Only to the end of the bridge," replied Catharine; "my gentlemen and my +litter wait for me there." + +They left the house, and at the end of the Rue de la Barillerie four +gentlemen on horseback and a plain litter were waiting. + +On his return Réné's first care was to count his boxes of opiates. One +was wanting. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI. + +MADAME DE SAUVE'S APARTMENT. + + +Catharine was not deceived in her suspicions. Henry had resumed his +former habits and went every evening to Madame de Sauve's. At first he +accomplished this with the greatest secrecy; but gradually he grew +negligent and ceased to take any precautions, so that Catharine had no +trouble in finding out that while Marguerite was still nominally Queen +of Navarre, Madame de Sauve was the real queen. + +At the beginning of this story we said a word or two about Madame de +Sauve's apartment; but the door opened by Dariole to the King of Navarre +closed hermetically behind him, so that these rooms, the scene of the +Béarnais's mysterious amours, are totally unknown to us. The quarters, +like those furnished by princes for their dependents in the palaces +occupied by them in order to have them within reach, were smaller and +less convenient than what she could have found in the city itself. As +the reader already knows, they were situated on the second floor of the +palace, almost immediately above those occupied by Henry himself. The +door opened into a corridor, the end of which was lighted by an arched +window with small leaded panes, so that even in the loveliest days of +the year only a dubious light filtered through. During the winter, after +three o'clock in the afternoon, it was necessary to light a lamp, but as +this contained no more oil than in summer, it went out by ten o'clock, +and thus, as soon as the winter days arrived, gave the two lovers the +greatest security. + +A small antechamber, carpeted with yellow flowered damask; a +reception-room with hangings of blue velvet; a sleeping-room, the bed +adorned with twisted columns and rose-satin curtains, enshrining a +_ruelle_ ornamented with a looking-glass set in silver, and two +paintings representing the loves of Venus and Adonis,--such was the +residence, or as one would say nowadays the nest, of the lovely +lady-in-waiting to Queen Catharine de Médicis. + +If one had looked sharply one would have found, opposite a toilet-table +provided with every accessory, a small door in a dark corner of this +room opening into a sort of oratory where, raised on two steps, stood a +_priedieu_. In this little chapel on the wall hung three or four +paintings, to the highest degree spiritual, as if to serve as a +corrective to the two mythological pictures which we mentioned. Among +these paintings were hung on gilded nails weapons such as women carried. + +That evening, which was the one following the scenes which we have +described as taking place at Maître Réné's, Madame de Sauve, seated in +her bedroom on a couch, was telling Henry about her fears and her love, +and was giving him as a proof of her love the devotion which she had +shown on the famous night following Saint Bartholomew's, the night +which, it will be remembered, Henry spent in his wife's quarters. + +Henry on his side was expressing his gratitude to her. Madame de Sauve +was charming that evening in her simple batiste wrapper; and Henry was +very grateful. + +At the same time, as Henry was really in love, he was dreamy. Madame de +Sauve, who had come actually to love instead of pretending to love as +Catharine had commanded, kept gazing at Henry to see if his eyes were in +accord with his words. + +"Come, now, Henry," she was saying, "be honest; that night which you +spent in the boudoir of her majesty the Queen of Navarre, with Monsieur +de la Mole at your feet, didn't you feel sorry that that worthy +gentleman was between you and the queen's bedroom?" + +"Certainly I did, sweetheart," said Henry, "for the only way that I +could reach this room where I am so comfortable, where at this instant I +am so happy, was for me to pass through the queen's room." + +Madame de Sauve smiled. + +"And you have not been there since?" + +"Only as I have told you." + +"You will never go to her without informing me?" + +"Never." + +"Would you swear to it?" + +"Certainly I would, if I were still a Huguenot, but"-- + +"But what?" + +"But the Catholic religion, the dogmas of which I am now learning, teach +me that one must never take an oath." + +"Gascon!" exclaimed Madame de Sauve, shaking her head. + +"But now it is my turn, Charlotte," said Henry. "If I ask you some +questions, will you answer?" + +"Certainly I will," replied the young woman, "I have nothing to hide +from you." + +"Now look here, Charlotte," said the king, "explain to me just for once +how it came about that after the desperate resistance which you made to +me before my marriage, you became less cruel to me who am an awkward +Béarnais, an absurd provincial, a prince too poverty-stricken, indeed, +to keep the jewels of his crown polished." + +"Henry," said Charlotte, "you are asking the explanation of the enigma +which the philosophers of all countries have been trying to determine +for the past three thousand years! Henry, never ask a woman why she +loves you; be satisfied with asking, 'Do you love me?'" + +"Do you love me, Charlotte?" asked Henry. + +"I love you," replied Madame de Sauve, with a fascinating smile, +dropping her pretty hand into her lover's. + +Henry retained the hand. + +"But," he went on to say, following out his thought, "supposing I have +guessed the word which the philosophers have been vainly trying to find +for three thousand years--at least as far as you are concerned, +Charlotte?" + +Madame de Sauve blushed. + +"You love me," pursued Henry, "consequently I have nothing else to ask +you and I consider myself the happiest man in the world. But you know +happiness is always accompanied by some lack. Adam, in the midst of +Eden, was not perfectly happy, and he bit into that miserable apple +which imposed upon us all that love for novelty that makes every one +spend his life in the search for something unknown. Tell me, my darling, +in order to help me to find mine, didn't Queen Catharine at first bid +you love me?" + +"Henry," exclaimed Madame de Sauve, "speak lower when you speak of the +queen mother!" + +"Oh!" exclaimed Henry, with a spontaneity and boldness which deceived +Madame de Sauve herself, "it was a good thing formerly to distrust her, +kind mother that she is, but then we were not on good terms; but now +that I am her daughter's husband"-- + +"Madame Marguerite's husband!" exclaimed Charlotte, flushing with +jealousy. + +"Speak low in your turn," said Henry; "now that I am her daughter's +husband we are the best friends in the world. What was it they wanted? +For me to become a Catholic, so it seems. Well, grace has touched me, +and by the intercession of Saint Bartholomew I have become one. We live +together like brethren in a happy family--like good Christians." + +"And Queen Marguerite?" + +"Queen Marguerite?" repeated Henry; "oh, well, she is the link uniting +us." + +"But, Henry, you said that the Queen of Navarre, as a reward for the +devotion I showed her, had been generous to me. If what you say is true, +if this generosity, for which I have cherished deep gratitude toward +her, is genuine, she is a connecting link easy to break. So you cannot +trust to this support, for you have not made your pretended intimacy +impose on any one." + +"Still I do rest on it, and for three months it has been the bolster on +which I have slept." + +"Then, Henry!" cried Madame de Sauve, "you have deceived me, and Madame +Marguerite is really your wife." + +Henry smiled. + +"There, Henry," said Madame de Sauve, "you have given me one of those +exasperating smiles which make me feel the cruel desire to scratch your +eyes out, king though you are." + +"Then," said Henry, "I seem to be imposing now by means of this +pretended friendship, since there are moments when, king though I am, +you desire to scratch out my eyes, because you believe that it exists!" + +"Henry! Henry!" said Madame de Sauve, "I believe that God himself does +not know what your thoughts are." + +"My sweetheart," said Henry, "I think that Catharine first told you to +love me, next, that your heart told you the same thing, and that when +those two voices are speaking to you, you hear only your heart's. Now +here I am. I love you and love you with my whole heart, and that is the +very reason why if ever I should have secrets I should not confide them +to you,--for fear of compromising you, of course,--for the queen's +friendship is changeable, it is a mother-in-law's." + +This was not what Charlotte expected; it seemed to her that the +thickening veil between her and her lover every time she tried to sound +the depths of his bottomless heart was assuming the consistency of a +wall, and was separating them from each other. So she felt the tears +springing to her eyes as he made this answer, and as it struck ten +o'clock just at that moment: + +"Sire," said Charlotte, "it is my bed-time; my duties call me very early +to-morrow morning to the queen mother." + +"So you drive me away to-night, do you, sweetheart?" + +"Henry, I am sad. As I am sad, you would find me tedious and you would +not like me any more. You see that it is better for you to withdraw." + +"Very good," said Henry, "I will withdraw if you insist upon it, only, +_ventre saint gris_! you must at least grant me the favor of staying for +your toilet." + +"But Queen Marguerite, sire! won't you keep her waiting if you remain?" + +"Charlotte," replied Henry, gravely, "it was agreed between us that we +should never mention the Queen of Navarre, but it seems to me that this +evening we have talked about nothing but her." + +Madame de Sauve sighed; then she went and sat down before her +toilet-table. Henry took a chair, pulled it along toward the one that +served as his mistress's seat, and setting one knee on it while he +leaned on the back of the other, he said: + +"Come, my good little Charlotte, let me see you make yourself beautiful, +and beautiful for me whatever you said. Heavens! What things! What +scent-bottles, what powders, what phials, what perfumery boxes!" + +"It seems a good deal," said Charlotte, with a sigh, "and yet it is too +little, since with it all I have not as yet found the means of reigning +exclusively over your majesty's heart." + +"There!" exclaimed Henry; "let us not fall back on politics! What is +that little fine delicate brush? Should it not be for painting the +eyebrows of my Olympian Jupiter?" + +"Yes, sire," replied Madame de Sauve, "and you have guessed at the first +shot!" + +"And that pretty little ivory rake?" + +"'Tis for parting the hair!" + +"And that charming little silver box with a chased cover?" + +"Oh, that is something Réné sent, sire; 'tis the famous opiate which he +has been promising me so long--to make still sweeter the lips which your +majesty has been good enough sometimes to find rather sweet." + +And Henry, as if to test what the charming woman said, touched his lips +to the ones which she was looking at so attentively in the mirror. Now +that they were returning to the field of coquetry, the cloud began to +lift from the baroness's brow. She took up the box which had thus been +explained, and was just going to show Henry how the vermilion salve was +used, when a sharp rap at the antechamber door startled the two lovers. + +"Some one is knocking, madame," said Dariole, thrusting her head through +the opening of the portière. + +"Go and find out who it is, and come back," said Madame de Sauve. Henry +and Charlotte looked at each other anxiously, and Henry was beginning to +think of retiring to the oratory, in which he had already more than once +taken refuge, when Dariole reappeared. + +"Madame," said she, "it is Maître Réné, the perfumer." + +At this name Henry frowned, and involuntarily bit his lips. + +"Do you want me to refuse him admission?" asked Charlotte. + +"No!" said Henry; "Maître Réné never does anything without having +previously thought about it. If he comes to you, it is because he has a +reason for coming." + +"In that case, do you wish to hide?" + +"I shall be careful not to," said Henry, "for Maître Réné knows +everything; therefore Maître Réné knows that I am here." + +"But has not your majesty some reason for thinking his presence painful +to you?" + +"I!" said Henry, making an effort, which in spite of his will-power he +could not wholly dissimulate. "I! none at all! we are rather cool to +each other, it is true; but since the night of Saint Bartholomew we have +been reconciled." + +"Let him enter!" said Madame de Sauve to Dariole. + +A moment later Réné appeared, and took in the whole room at a glance. + +Madame de Sauve was still before her toilet-table. + +Henry had resumed his place on the couch. + +Charlotte was in the light, and Henry in the shadow. + +"Madame," said Réné, with respectful familiarity, "I have come to offer +my apologies." + +"For what, Réné?" asked Madame de Sauve, with that condescension which +pretty women always use towards the world of tradespeople who surround +them, and whose duty it is to make them more beautiful. + +"Because long ago I promised to work for these pretty lips, and +because"-- + +"Because you did not keep your promise until to-day; is that it?" asked +Charlotte. + +"Until to-day?" repeated Réné. + +"Yes; it was only to-day, in fact, this evening, that I received the box +you sent me." + +"Ah! indeed!" said Réné, looking strangely at the small opiate box on +Madame de Sauve's table, which was precisely like those he had in his +shop. "I thought so!" he murmured. "And you have used it?" + +"No, not yet. I was just about to try it as you entered." Réné's face +assumed a dreamy expression which did not escape Henry. Indeed, very few +things escaped him. + +"Well, Réné, what are you going to do now?" asked the king. + +"I? Nothing, sire," said the perfumer, "I am humbly waiting until your +majesty speaks to me, before taking leave of Madame la Baronne." + +"Come, now!" said Henry, smiling. "Do you need my word to know that it +is a pleasure to me to see you?" + +Réné glanced around him, made a tour of the room as if to sound the +doors and the curtains with his eye and ear, then he stopped and +standing so that he could embrace at a glance both Madame de Sauve and +Henry: + +"I do not know it," said he, thanks to that admirable instinct which +like a sixth sense guided him during the first part of his life in the +midst of impending dangers. Henry felt that at that moment something +strangely resembling a struggle was passing through the mind of the +perfumer, and turned towards him, still in the shadow, while the +Florentine's face was in the light. + +"You here at this hour, Réné?" said he. + +"Am I unfortunate enough to be in your majesty's way?" asked the +perfumer, stepping back. + +"No, but I want to know one thing." + +"What, sire?" + +"Did you think you would find me here?" + +"I was sure of it." + +"You wanted me, then?" + +"I am glad to have found you, at least." + +"Have you something to say to me?" persisted Henry. + +"Perhaps, sire!" replied Réné. + +Charlotte blushed, for she feared that the revelation which the perfumer +seemed anxious to make might have something to do with her conduct +towards Henry. Therefore she acted as though, having been wholly +engrossed with her toilet, she had heard nothing, and interrupted the +conversation. + +"Ah! really, Réné," said she, opening the opiate box, "you are a +delightful man. This cake is a marvellous color, and since you are here +I am going to honor you by experimenting with your new production." + +She took the box in one hand, and with the other touched the tip of her +finger to the rose paste, which she was about to raise to her lips. + +Réné gave a start. + +The baroness smilingly lifted the opiate to her mouth. + +Réné turned pale. + +Still in the shadow, but with fixed and glowing eyes, Henry lost neither +the action of the one nor the shudder of the other. + +Charlotte's hand had but a short distance to go before it would touch +her lips when Réné seized her arm, just as Henry rose to do so. + +Henry fell back noiselessly on the couch. + +"One moment, madame," said Réné, with a constrained smile, "you must not +use this opiate without special directions." + +"Who will give me these directions?" + +"I." + +"When?" + +"As soon as I have finished saying what I have to say to his Majesty the +King of Navarre." + +Charlotte opened her eyes wide, understanding nothing of the mysterious +language about her, and sat with the opiate pot in one hand, gazing at +the tip of her finger, red with the rouge. + +Henry rose, and moved by a thought which, like all those of the young +king, had two sides, one which seemed superficial, the other which was +deep, he took Charlotte's hand and red as it was, made as though to +raise it to his lips. + +"One moment," said Réné, quickly, "one moment! Be kind enough, madame, +to rinse your lovely hands with this soap from Naples which I neglected +to send you at the same time as the rouge, and which I have the honor of +bringing you now." + +Drawing from its silver wrapping a cake of green soap, he put it in a +vermilion basin, poured some water over it, and, with one knee on the +floor, offered it to Madame de Sauve. + +"Why, really, Maître Réné, I no longer recognize you," said Henry, "you +are so gallant that you far outstrip every court fop." + +"Oh, what a delicious perfume!" cried Charlotte, rubbing her beautiful +hands with the pearly foam made by the scented cake. + +Réné performed his office of courtier to the end. He offered a napkin of +fine Frisian linen to Madame de Sauve, who dried her hands on it. + +"Now," said the Florentine to Henry. "Let your mind be at rest, +monseigneur." + +Charlotte gave her hand to Henry, who kissed it, and while she half +turned on her chair to listen to what Réné was about to say, the King of +Navarre returned to his couch, more convinced than ever that something +unusual was passing through the mind of the perfumer. + +"Well?" asked Charlotte. The Florentine apparently made an effort to +collect all his strength, and then turned towards Henry. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII. + +"SIRE, YOU SHALL BE KING." + + +"Sire," said Réné to Henry, "I have come to speak of something which has +been on my mind for some time." + +"Perfumery?" said Henry, smiling. + +"Well, yes, sire,--perfumery," replied Réné, with a singular nod of +acquiescence. + +"Speak, I am listening to you. This is a subject which has always +interested me deeply." + +Réné looked at Henry to try, in spite of his words, to read the +impenetrable thought; but seeing that it was perfectly impossible, he +continued: + +"One of my friends, sire, has just arrived from Florence. This friend is +greatly interested in astrology." + +"Yes," interrupted Henry, "I know that it is a passion with +Florentines." + +"In company with the foremost students of the world he has read the +horoscopes of the chief gentlemen of Europe." + +"Ah! ah!" exclaimed Henry. + +"And as the house of Bourbon is at the head of the highest, descended as +it is from the Count of Clermont, the fifth son of Saint Louis, your +majesty must know that your horoscope has not been overlooked." + +Henry listened still more attentively. + +"Do you remember this horoscope?" said the King of Navarre, with a smile +which he strove to render indifferent. + +"Oh!" replied Réné, shaking his head, "your horoscope is not one to be +forgotten." + +"Indeed!" said Henry, ironically. + +"Yes, sire; according to this horoscope your majesty is to have a most +brilliant destiny." + +The young prince gave a lightning glance which was almost at once lost +under cover of indifference. + +"Every Italian oracle is apt to flatter," said Henry; "but he who +flatters lies. Are there not those who have predicted that I would +command armies? I!" He burst out laughing. But an observer less occupied +with himself than Réné would have noticed and realized the effort of +this laugh. + +"Sire," said Réné, coldly, "the horoscope tells better than that." + +"Does it foretell that at the head of one of these armies I shall win +battles?" + +"Better than that, sire." + +"Well," said Henry; "you will see that I shall be conqueror!" + +"Sire, you shall be king." + +"Well! _Ventre saint gris_!" exclaimed Henry, repressing a violent +beating of his heart; "am I not that already?" + +"Sire, my friend knows what he promises; not only will you be king, but +you will reign." + +"In that case," said Henry, in the same mocking tone, "your friend must +have ten crowns of gold, must he not, Réné? for such a prophecy is very +ambitious, especially in times like these. Well, Réné, as I am not rich, +I will give your friend five now and five more when the prophecy is +fulfilled." + +"Sire," said Madame de Sauve, "do not forget that you are already +pledged to Dariole, and do not overburden yourself with promises." + +"Madame," said Henry, "I hope when this time comes that I shall be +treated as a king, and that they will be satisfied if I keep half of my +promises." + +"Sire," said Réné, "I will continue." + +"Oh, that is not all, then?" said Henry. "Well, if I am emperor, I will +give twice as much." + +"Sire, my friend has returned from Florence with the horoscope, which he +renewed in Paris, and which always gives the same result; and he told me +a secret." + +"A secret of interest to his majesty?" asked Charlotte, quickly. + +"I think so," said the Florentine. + +"He is searching for words," thought Henry, without in any way coming to +Réné's rescue. "Apparently the thing is difficult to tell." + +"Speak, then," went on the Baroness de Sauve; "what is it about?" + +"It is about all the rumors of poisoning," said the Florentine, weighing +each of his words separately, "it is about all the rumors of poisoning +which for some time have been circulated around court." A slight +movement of the nostrils of the King of Navarre was the only indication +of his increased attention at the sudden turn in the conversation. + +"And your friend the Florentine," said Henry, "knows something about +this poisoning?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"How can you tell me a secret which is not yours, Réné, especially when +the secret is such an important one?" said Henry, in the most natural +tone he could assume. + +"This friend has some advice to ask of your majesty." + +"Of me?" + +"What is there surprising in that, sire? Remember the old soldier of +Actium who, having a law-suit on hand, asked advice of Augustus." + +"Augustus was a lawyer, Réné, and I am not." + +"Sire, when my friend confided this secret to me, your majesty still +belonged to the Calvinist party, of which you were the chief head, and +of which Monsieur de Condé was the second." + +"Well?" said Henry. + +"This friend hoped that you would use your all-powerful influence over +Monsieur de Condé and beg him not to be hostile to him." + +"Explain this to me, Réné, if you wish me to understand it," said Henry, +without betraying the least change in his face or voice. + +"Sire, your majesty will understand at the first word. This friend knows +all the particulars of the attempt to poison Monseigneur de Condé." + +"There has been an attempt to poison the Prince de Condé?" exclaimed +Henry with a well-assumed astonishment. "Ah, indeed, and when was this?" + +Réné looked fixedly at the king, and replied merely by these words: + +"A week ago, your majesty." + +"Some enemy?" asked the king. + +"Yes," replied Réné, "an enemy whom your majesty knows and who knows +your majesty." + +"As a matter of fact," said Henry, "I think I have heard this mentioned, +but I am ignorant of the details which your friend has to reveal. Tell +them to me." + +"Well, a perfumed apple was offered to the Prince of Condé. Fortunately, +however, when it was brought to him his physician was with him. He took +it from the hands of the messenger and smelled it to test its odor and +soundness. Two days later a gangrene swelling of the face, an +extravasation of the blood, a running sore which ate away his face, were +the price of his devotion or the result of his imprudence." + +"Unfortunately," replied Henry, "being half Catholic already, I have +lost all influence over Monsieur de Condé. Your friend was wrong, +therefore, in addressing himself to me." + +"It was not only in regard to the Prince de Condé that your majesty +could be of use to my friend, but in regard to the Prince de Porcian +also, the brother of the one who was poisoned." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Charlotte, "do you know, Réné, that your stories partake +of the gruesome? You plead at a poor time. It is late, your conversation +is death-like. Really, your perfumes are worth more." Charlotte again +extended her hand towards the opiate box. + +"Madame," said Réné, "before testing that, as you are about to do, hear +what cruel results wicked men can draw from it." + +"Really, Réné," said the baroness, "you are funereal this evening." + +Henry frowned, but he understood that Réné wished to reach a goal which +he did not yet see, and he resolved to push towards this end the +conversation which awakened in him such painful memories. + +"And," he continued, "you knew the details of the poisoning of the +Prince de Porcian?" + +"Yes," said he. "It is known that every night he left a lamp burning +near his bed; the oil was poisoned and he was asphyxiated." + +Henry clinched his fingers, which were damp with perspiration. + +"So," he murmured, "he whom you call your friend knows not only the +details of the poisoning, but the author of it?" + +"Yes, and it is for this reason that he wished to ask you if you would +use over the Prince of Porcian the remains of that influence and have +the murderer pardoned for the death of his brother." + +"Unfortunately," replied Henry, "still being half Huguenot, I have no +influence over Monsieur le Prince de Porcian; your friend therefore +would have done wrong in speaking to me." + +"But what do you think of the intentions of Monsieur le Prince de Condé +and of Monsieur de Porcian?" + +"How should I know their intentions, Réné? God, whom I may know, has not +given me the privilege of reading their hearts." + +"Your majesty must ask yourself," said the Florentine calmly. "Is there +not in the life of your majesty some event so gloomy that it can serve +as a test of clemency, so painful that it is a touchstone for +generosity?" + +These words were uttered in a tone which made Charlotte herself tremble. +It was an allusion so direct, so pointed, that the young woman turned +aside to hide her blush, and to avoid meeting Henry's eyes. Henry made a +supreme effort over himself; his forehead, which during the words of the +Florentine wore threatening lines, unbent, and he changed the dignified, +filial grief which tightened his heart into vague meditation. + +"In my life," said he, "a gloomy circumstance--no, Réné, no; I remember +in my youth only folly and carelessness mingled with more or less cruel +necessity imposed on every one by the demands of nature and the proofs +of God." + +Réné in turn became constrained as he glanced from Henry to Charlotte, +as though to rouse the one and hold back the other; for Charlotte had +returned to her toilet to hide the anxiety caused by their conversation, +and had again extended her hand towards the opiate box. + +"But, sire, if you were the brother of the Prince of Porcian or the son +of the Prince of Condé, and if they had poisoned your brother or +assassinated your father"--Charlotte uttered a slight cry and raised the +opiate to her lips. Réné saw the gesture, but this time he stopped her +neither by word nor gesture; he merely exclaimed: + +"In Heaven's name, sire, answer! Sire, if you were in their place what +would you do?" + +Henry recovered himself. With trembling hand he wiped his forehead, on +which stood drops of cold perspiration, and rising to his full height, +replied in the midst of the silence which until then had held Réné and +Charlotte: + +"If I were in their place, and if I were sure of being king, that is, +sure of representing God on earth, I would act like God, I should +pardon." + +"Madame," cried Réné, snatching the opiate from the hands of Madame de +Sauve, "madame, give me back this box; my messenger boy, I see, has made +a mistake in it. To-morrow I will send you another." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII. + +A NEW CONVERT. + + +The following day there was to be a hunt in the forest of Saint Germain. + +Henry had ordered a small Béarnais horse to be made ready for him; that +is, to be saddled and bridled at eight o'clock in the morning. He had +intended giving this horse to Madame de Sauve, but he wanted to try it +first. At a quarter before eight the horse was ready. On the stroke of +eight Henry came down to the court-yard. The horse, proud and fiery in +spite of its small size, pricked up its ears and pawed the ground. The +weather was cold and a light frost covered the pavement. Henry started +to cross the court-yard to the stables where the horse and the groom +were waiting, when a Swiss soldier whom he passed standing sentinel at +the gate presented arms and said: + +"God keep his Majesty the King of Navarre." + +At this wish and especially at the tone in which it was uttered the +Béarnais started. + +He turned and stepped back. + +"De Mouy!" he murmured. + +"Yes, sire, De Mouy." + +"What are you doing here?" + +"Looking for you." + +"Why are you looking for me?" + +"I must speak to your majesty." + +"Unfortunately," said the king, approaching him, "do you not know you +risk your head?" + +"I know it." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I am here." + +Henry turned slightly pale, for he knew that he shared the danger run by +this rash young man. He looked anxiously about him, and stepped back a +second time, no less quickly than he had done at first. He had seen the +Duc d'Alençon at a window. + +At once changing his manner Henry took the musket from the hands of De +Mouy, standing, as we have said, sentinel, and while apparently +measuring it: + +"De Mouy," said he, "it is certainly not without some very strong motive +that you have come to beard the lion in his den in this way?" + +"No, sire, I have waited for you a week; only yesterday I heard that +your majesty was to try a horse this morning, and I took my position at +the gate of the Louvre." + +"But how in this uniform?" + +"The captain of the company is a Protestant and is one of my friends." + +"Here is your musket; return to your duty of sentinel. We are watched. +As I come back I will try to say a word to you, but if I do not speak, +do not stop me. Adieu." + +De Mouy resumed his measured walk, and Henry advanced towards the house. + +"What is that pretty little animal?" asked the Duc d'Alençon from his +window. + +"A horse I am going to try this morning," replied Henry. + +"But that is not a horse for a man." + +"Therefore it is intended for a beautiful woman." + +"Take care, Henry; you are going to be indiscreet, for we shall see this +beautiful woman at the hunt; and if I do not know whose knight you are, +I shall at least know whose equerry you are." + +"No, my lord, you will not know," said Henry, with his feigned +good-humor, "for this beautiful woman cannot go out this morning; she is +indisposed." + +He sprang into the saddle. + +"Ah, bah!" cried d'Alençon, laughing; "poor Madame de Sauve." + +"François! François! it is you who are indiscreet." + +"What is the matter with the beautiful Charlotte?" went on the Duc +d'Alençon. + +"Why," replied Henry, spurring his horse to a gallop, and making him +describe a graceful curve; "why, I have no idea,--a heaviness in the +head, according to what Dariole tells me. A torpor of the whole body; in +short, general debility." + +"And will this prevent you from joining us?" asked the duke. + +"I? Why should it?" asked Henry. "You know that I dote on a hunt, and +that nothing could make me miss one." + +"But you will miss this one, Henry," said the duke, after he had turned +and spoken for an instant with some one unnoticed by Henry, who +addressed François from the rear of the room, "for his Majesty tells me +that the hunt cannot take place." + +"Bah!" said Henry, in the most disappointed tone imaginable. "Why not?" + +"Very important letters from Monsieur de Nevers, it seems. There is a +council among the King, the queen mother, and my brother the Duc +d'Anjou." + +"Ah! ah!" said Henry to himself, "could any news have come from Poland?" + +Then aloud: + +"In that case," he continued, "it is useless for me to run any further +risk on this frost. Good-by, brother!" + +Pulling up his horse in front of De Mouy: + +"My friend," said he, "call one of your comrades to finish your sentinel +duty for you. Help the groom ungirth my horse. Put the saddle over your +head and carry it to the saddler's; there is some embroidery to be done +on it, which there was not time to finish for to-day. You will bring an +answer to my apartments." + +De Mouy hastened to obey, for the Duc d'Alençon had disappeared from his +window, and it was evident that he suspected something. + +In fact, scarcely had De Mouy disappeared through the gate before the +Duc d'Alençon came in sight. A real Swiss was in De Mouy's place. +D'Alençon looked carefully at the new sentinel; then turning to Henry: + +"This is not the man you were talking with just now, is it, brother?" + +"The other is a young man who belongs to my household and whom I had +enter the Swiss guards. I have just given him a commission and he has +gone to carry it out." + +"Ah!" said the duke, as if this reply sufficed. "And how is Marguerite?" + +"I am going to ask her, brother." + +"Have you not seen her since yesterday?" + +"No. I went to her about eleven o'clock last night, but Gillonne told me +that she was tired and had gone to sleep." + +"You will not find her in her room. She has gone out." + +"Oh!" said Henry. "Very likely. She was to go to the _Convent de +l'Annonciade_." + +There was no way of carrying the conversation further, as Henry had +seemingly made up his mind simply to answer. The two brothers-in-law +therefore departed, the Duc d'Alençon to go for news, he said, the King +of Navarre to return to his room. + +Henry had been there scarcely five minutes when he heard a knock at the +door. + +"Who is it?" he asked. + +"Sire," replied a voice which Henry recognized as that of De Mouy, "it +is the answer from the saddler." + +Henry, visibly moved, bade the young man enter and closed the door +behind him. + +"Is it you, De Mouy?" said he; "I hoped that you would reflect." + +"Sire," replied De Mouy, "I have reflected for three months; that is +long enough. Now it is time to act." Henry made a gesture of impatience. + +"Fear nothing, sire, we are alone, and I will make haste, for time is +precious. Your majesty can tell in a word all that the events of the +year have lost to the cause of religion. Let us be clear, brief, and +frank." + +"I am listening, my good De Mouy," replied Henry, seeing that it was +impossible for him to elude the explanation. + +"Is it true that your majesty has abjured the Protestant religion?" + +"It is true," said Henry. + +"Yes, but is it with your lips or at heart?" + +"One is always grateful to God when he saves our life," replied Henry, +turning the question as he had a habit of doing in such cases, "and God +has evidently saved me from this cruel danger." + +"Sire," resumed De Mouy, "let us admit one thing." + +"What?" + +"That your abjuring is not a matter of conviction, but of calculation. +You have abjured so that the King would let you live, and not because +God has saved your life." + +"Whatever the cause of my conversion, De Mouy," replied Henry, "I am +none the less a Catholic." + +"Yes, but shall you always be one? The first chance you have for +resuming your freedom of life and of conscience, will you not resume it? +Well! this opportunity has presented itself. La Rochelle has revolted, +Roussillon and Béarn are merely waiting for one word before acting. In +Guyenne every one cries for war. Merely tell me if you were forced into +taking this step, and I will answer for the future." + +"A gentleman of my birth is not forced, my dear De Mouy. That which I +have done, I have done voluntarily." + +"But, sire," said the young man, his heart oppressed with this +resistance which he had not expected, "you do not remember that in +acting thus you abandon and betray us." + +Henry was unmoved. + +"Yes," went on De Mouy, "yes, you betray us, sire, for several of us, at +the risk of our lives, have come to save your honor and your liberty; we +are prepared to offer you a throne, sire; do you realize this? not only +liberty, but power; a throne of your own choice, for in two months you +could choose between Navarre and France." + +"De Mouy," said Henry, covering his eyes, which in spite of himself had +emitted a flash at the above suggestion, "De Mouy, I am safe, I am a +Catholic, I am the husband of Marguerite, I am the brother of King +Charles, I am the son-in-law of my good mother Catharine. De Mouy, in +assuming these various positions, I have calculated their opportunities +and also their obligations." + +"But, sire," said De Mouy, "what must one believe? I am told that your +marriage is not contracted, that at heart you are free, that the hatred +of Catharine"-- + +"Lies, lies," interrupted the Béarnais hastily. "Yes, you have been +shamefully deceived, my friend; this dear Marguerite is indeed my wife, +Catharine is really my mother, and King Charles IX. is the lord and +master of my life and of my heart." + +De Mouy shuddered, and an almost scornful smile passed over his lips. + +"In that case, sire," said he dropping his arms dejectedly, and trying +to fathom that soul filled with shadows, "this is the answer I am to +take back to my brothers,--I shall tell them that the King of Navarre +extends his hand and opens his heart to those who have cut our throats; +I shall tell them that he has become the flatterer of the queen mother +and the friend of Maurevel." + +"My dear De Mouy," said Henry, "the King is coming out of the council +chamber, and I must go and find out from him the reasons for our having +had to give up so important a thing as a hunt. Adieu; imitate me, my +friend, give up politics, return to the King and attend mass." + +Henry led or rather pushed into the antechamber the young man, whose +amazement was beginning to change into fury. + +Scarcely was the door closed before, unable any longer to resist the +longing to avenge himself on something in defence of some one, De Mouy +twisted his hat between his hands, threw it upon the floor, and stamping +on it as a bull would stamp on the cloak of the matador: + +"By Heaven!" he cried, "he is a wretched prince, and I have half a mind +to kill myself here in order to stain him forever with my blood." + +"Hush, Monsieur de Mouy!" said a voice through a half-open door; "hush! +some one besides myself might hear you." + +De Mouy turned quickly and perceived the Duc d'Alençon enveloped in a +cloak, advancing into the corridor with pale face, to make sure that he +and De Mouy were entirely alone. + +"Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon," cried De Mouy, "I am lost!" + +"On the contrary," murmured the prince, "perhaps you have found what you +are looking for, and the proof of this is that I do not want you to kill +yourself here as you had an idea of doing just now. Believe me, your +blood can in all probability be put to better use than to redden the +threshold of the King of Navarre." + +At these words the duke threw back the door which he had been holding +half open. + +"This chamber belongs to two of my gentlemen," said the duke. "No one +will interrupt us here. We can, therefore, talk freely. Come in, +monsieur." + +"I, here, monseigneur!" cried the conspirator in amazement. He entered +the room, the door of which the Duc d'Alençon closed behind him no less +quickly than the King of Navarre had done. + +De Mouy entered, furious, exasperated, cursing. But by degrees the cold +and steady glance of the young Duc François had the same effect on the +Huguenot captain as does the enchanted lake which dissipates +drunkenness. + +"Monseigneur," said he, "if I understand correctly, your highness wishes +to speak to me." + +"Yes, Monsieur de Mouy," replied François. "In spite of your disguise I +thought I recognized you, and when you presented arms to my brother +Henry, I recognized you perfectly. Well, De Mouy, so you are not pleased +with the King of Navarre?" + +"Monseigneur!" + +"Come, come! tell me frankly, unless you distrust me; perhaps I am one +of your friends." + +"You, monseigneur?" + +"Yes, I; so speak." + +"I do not know what to say to your highness, monseigneur. The matter I +had to discuss with the King of Navarre concerned interests which your +highness would not comprehend. Moreover," added De Mouy with a manner +which he strove to render indifferent, "they were mere trifles." + +"Trifles?" said the duke. + +"Yes, monseigneur." + +"Trifles, for which you felt you would risk your life by coming back to +the Louvre, where you know your head is worth its weight in gold. We are +not ignorant of the fact that you, as well as the King of Navarre and +the Prince de Condé, are one of the leaders of the Huguenots." + +"If you think that, monseigneur, act towards me as the brother of King +Charles and the son of Queen Catharine should act." + +"Why should you wish me to act in that way, when I have told you that I +am a friend of yours? Tell me the truth." + +"Monseigneur," said De Mouy, "I swear to you"-- + +"Do not swear, monseigneur; the reformed church forbids the taking of +oaths, and especially of false oaths." + +De Mouy frowned. + +"I tell you I know all," continued the duke. + +De Mouy was still silent. + +"You doubt it?" said the prince with affected persistence. "Well, my +dear De Mouy, we shall have to be convinced. Come, now, you shall judge +if I am wrong. Did you or did you not propose to my brother-in-law +Henry, in his room just now," the duke pointed to the chamber of the +Béarnais, "your aid and that of your followers to reinstate him in his +kingdom of Navarre?" + +De Mouy looked at the duke with a startled gaze. + +"A proposition which he refused with terror." + +De Mouy was still amazed. + +"Did you then invoke your old friendship, the remembrance of a common +religion? Did you even hold out to the King of Navarre a very brilliant +hope, a hope so brilliant that he was dazzled by it--the hope of winning +the crown of France? Come, tell me; am I well informed? Is that what you +came to propose to the Béarnais?" + +"Monseigneur!" cried De Mouy, "this is so true, that I now wonder if I +should not tell your royal highness that you have lied! to arouse in +this chamber a combat without mercy, and thus to make sure of the +extinction of this terrible secret by the death of both of us." + +"Gently, my brave De Mouy, gently!" said the Duc d'Alençon without +changing countenance, or without taking the slightest notice of this +terrible threat. + +"The secret will die better with us if we both live than if one of us +were to die. Listen to me, and stop pulling at the handle of your sword. +For the third time I say that you are with a friend. Now tell me, did +not the King of Navarre refuse everything you offered him?" + +"Yes, monseigneur, and I admit it, because my avowal can compromise only +myself." + +"On leaving his room did you not stamp on your hat, and cry out that he +was a cowardly prince, and unworthy of being your leader?" + +"That is true, monseigneur, I said that." + +"Ah! you did? you admit it at last?" + +"Yes." + +"And this is still your opinion?" + +"More than ever, monseigneur." + +"Well, am I, Monsieur de Mouy, I, the third son of Henry II., I, a son +of France, am I a good enough gentleman to command your soldiers? Come, +now; do you think me loyal enough for you to trust my word?" + +"You, monseigneur! you, the leader of the Huguenots!" + +"Why not? This is an epoch of conversions, you know. Henry has turned +Catholic; I can turn Protestant." + +"Yes, no doubt, monseigneur; so I am waiting for you to explain to me"-- + +"Nothing is easier; and in two words I can tell you the policy of every +one. My brother Charles kills the Huguenots in order to reign more +freely. My brother of Anjou lets them be killed because he is to succeed +my brother Charles, and because, as you know, my brother Charles is +often ill. But with me it is entirely different. I shall never reign--at +least in France--as long as I have two elder brothers. The hatred of my +mother and of my two brothers more than the law of nature keeps me from +the throne. I have no claim to any family affection, any glory, or any +kingdom. Yet I have a heart as great as my elder brother's. Well, De +Mouy, I want to look about and with my sword cut a kingdom out of this +France they cover with blood. Now this is what I want, De Mouy, listen: +I want to be King of Navarre, not by birth but by election. And note +well that you have no objection to this system. I am not a usurper, +since my brother refuses your offers, and buries himself in his torpor, +and pretends aloud that this kingdom of Navarre is only a myth. With +Henry of Béarn you have nothing. With me, you have a sword and a name, +François d'Alençon, son of France, protector of all his companions or +all his accomplices, as you are pleased to call them. Well, what do you +say to this offer, Monsieur de Mouy?" + +"I say that it dazzles me, monseigneur." + +"De Mouy, De Mouy, we shall have many obstacles to overcome. Do not, +therefore, from the first be so exacting and so obstinate towards the +son of a king and the brother of a king who comes to you." + +"Monseigneur, the matter would be already settled if my opinion were +the only one to be considered, but we have a council, and brilliant as +the offer may be, perhaps even on that very account the leaders of the +party will not consent to the plan unconditionally." + +"That is another thing, and your answer comes from an honest heart and a +prudent mind. From the way I have just acted, De Mouy, you must have +recognized my honesty. Treat me, therefore, on your part as a man who is +esteemed, not as a man who is flattered. De Mouy, have I any chance?" + +"On my word, monseigneur, since your highness wants me to give my +opinion, your highness has every chance, since the King of Navarre has +refused the offer I have just made him. But I tell you again, +monseigneur, I shall have to confer with our leaders." + +"Do so, monsieur," replied d'Alençon. "But when shall I have an answer?" + +De Mouy looked at the prince in silence. Then apparently coming to a +decision: + +"Monseigneur," said he, "give me your hand. I must have the hand of a +son of France touch mine to make sure that I shall not be betrayed." + +The duke not only extended his hand towards De Mouy, but grasped De +Mouy's and pressed it. + +"Now, monseigneur, I am satisfied," said the young Huguenot. "If we were +betrayed I should say that you had nothing to do with it; otherwise, +monseigneur, however slightly you might be concerned in the treason, you +would be dishonored." + +"Why do you say that to me, De Mouy, before telling me that you will +bring me the answer from your leaders?" + +"Because, monseigneur, asking me when you would have your answer was the +same as asking me where are the leaders, and because if I said to you, +'This evening,' you would know that the chiefs were hiding in Paris." As +he uttered these words, with a gesture of mistrust, De Mouy fixed his +piercing glance on the false vacillating eyes of the young man. + +"Well, well," said the duke, "you still have doubts, Monsieur de Mouy. +But I cannot expect entire confidence from you at first. You will +understand me better later. We shall be bound by common interests which +will rid you of all suspicion. You say this evening, then, Monsieur de +Mouy?" + +"Yes, monseigneur, for time presses. Until this evening. But where shall +I see you, if you please?" + +"At the Louvre, here in this room; does that suit you?" + +"Is this occupied?" said De Mouy, glancing at the two beds opposite each +other. + +"By two of my gentlemen, yes." + +"Monseigneur, it seems to me imprudent to return to the Louvre." + +"Why so?" + +"Because if you have recognized me, others also may have as good eyes as +your highness, and may recognize me. However, I will return to the +Louvre if you will grant me what I am about to ask of you." + +"What is that?" + +"A passport." + +"A passport from me found on you would ruin me and would not save you. I +can do nothing for you unless in the eyes of the world we are strangers +to each other; the slightest relation between us, noticed by my mother +or my brother, would cost me my life. You were therefore protected by my +interest for myself from the moment I compromised myself with the +others, as I am now compromising myself with you. Free in my sphere of +action, strong if I am unknown, so long as I myself remain impenetrable, +I will guarantee you everything. Do not forget this. Make a fresh appeal +to your courage, therefore. Try on my word of honor what you tried +without the word of honor of my brother. Come this evening to the +Louvre." + +"But how do you wish me to come? I can not venture in these rooms in my +present uniform--it is for the vestibules and the courts. My own is +still more dangerous, since everyone knows me here, and since it in no +way disguises me." + +"Therefore I will look--wait--I think that--yes, here it is." + +The duke had looked around him, and his eyes stopped at La Mole's +clothes, thrown temporarily on the bed; that is, on the magnificent +cherry-colored cloak embroidered in gold, of which we have already +spoken; on a cap ornamented with a white plume surrounded by a rope of +gold and silver marguerites, and finally on a pearl-gray satin and gold +doublet. + +"Do you see this cloak, this plume, and this doublet?" said the duke; +"they belong to Monsieur de la Mole, one of my gentlemen, a fop of the +highest type. The cloak was the rage at court, and when he wore it, +Monsieur de la Mole was recognized a hundred feet away. I will give you +the address of the tailor who made it for him. By paying him double what +it is worth, you will have one exactly like it by this evening. You will +remember the name of Monsieur de la Mole, will you not?" + +Scarcely had the Duc d'Alençon finished making the suggestion, when a +step was heard approaching in the corridor, and a key was turned in the +lock. + +"Who is that?" cried the duke, rushing to the door and drawing the bolt. + +"By Heaven!" replied a voice from outside; "I find that a strange +question. Who are you yourself? This is pleasant! I return to my own +room, and am asked who I am!" + +"Is it you, Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Yes, it is I, without a doubt. But who are you?" + +While La Mole was expressing his surprise at finding his room occupied, +and while he was trying to discover its new occupant, the Duc d'Alençon +turned quickly, one hand on the lock, the other on the key. + +"Do you know Monsieur de la Mole?" he asked of De Mouy. + +"No, monseigneur." + +"Does he know you?" + +"I think not." + +"In that case it will be all right. Appear to be looking out of the +window." + +De Mouy obeyed in silence, for La Mole was beginning to grow impatient, +and was knocking on the door with all his might. + +The Duc d'Alençon threw a last glance towards De Mouy, and seeing that +his back was turned, he opened the door. + +"Monseigneur le Duc!" cried La Mole, stepping back in surprise. "Oh, +pardon, pardon, monseigneur!" + +"It is nothing, monsieur; I needed your room to receive a visitor." + +"Certainly, monseigneur, certainly. But allow me, I beg you, to take my +cloak and hat from the bed, for I lost both to-night on the quay of the +Grève, where I was attacked by robbers." + +"In fact, monsieur," said the prince, smiling, himself handing to La +Mole the articles asked for, "you are very poorly accommodated here. +You have had an encounter with some very obstinate fellows, apparently!" + +The duke handed to La Mole the cloak and the hat. The young man bowed +and withdrew to the antechamber to change his clothes, paying no +attention to what the duke was doing in his room; for it was an ordinary +occurrence at the Louvre for the rooms of the gentlemen to be used as +reception-rooms by the prince to whom the latter were attached. + +De Mouy then approached the duke, and both listened for La Mole to +finish and go out; but when the latter had changed his clothes, he +himself saved them all further trouble by drawing near to the door. + +"Pardon me, monseigneur," said he, "but did your highness meet the Count +de Coconnas on your way?" + +"No, count, and yet he was at service this morning." + +"In that case they will assassinate me," said La Mole to himself as he +went away. + +The duke heard the noise of his retreating steps; then opening the door +and drawing De Mouy after him: + +"Watch him going away," said he, "and try to copy his inimitable walk." + +"I will do my best," replied De Mouy. "Unfortunately I am not a lady's +man, but a soldier." + +"At all events I shall expect you in this corridor before midnight. If +the chamber of my gentlemen is free, I will receive you there; if not, +we will find another." + +"Yes, monseigneur." + +"Until this evening then, before midnight." + +"Until this evening, before midnight." + +"Ah! by the way, De Mouy, swing your right arm a good deal as you walk. +This is a peculiar trick of Monsieur de la Mole's." + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV. + +THE RUE TIZON AND THE RUE CLOCHE PERCÉE. + + +La Mole hurriedly left the Louvre, and set out to search Paris for poor +Coconnas. + +His first move was to repair to the Rue de l'Arbre Sec and to enter +Maître La Hurière's, for La Mole remembered that he had often repeated +to the Piedmontese a certain Latin motto which was meant to prove that +Love, Bacchus, and Ceres are gods absolutely necessary to us, and he +hoped that Coconnas, to follow up the Roman aphorism, had gone to the +_Belle Étoile_ after a night which must have been as full for his friend +as it had been for himself. + +La Mole found nothing at La Hurière's except the reminder of the assumed +obligation. A breakfast which was offered with good grace was eagerly +accepted by our gentleman, in spite of his anxiety. His stomach calmed +in default of his mind, La Mole resumed his walk, ascending the bank of +the Seine like a husband searching for his drowned wife. On reaching the +quay of the Grève, he recognized the place where, as he had said to +Monsieur d'Alençon, he had been stopped during his nocturnal tramp three +or four hours before. This was no unusual thing in Paris, older by a +hundred years than that in which Boileau was awakened at the sound of a +ball piercing his window shutter. A bit of the plume from his hat +remained on the battle-field. The sentiment of possession is innate in +man. La Mole had ten plumes each more beautiful than the last, and yet +he stopped to pick up that one, or, rather, the sole fragment of what +remained of it, and was contemplating it with a pitiful air when he +heard the sound of heavy steps approaching, and rough voices ordering +him to stand aside. La Mole raised his head and perceived a litter +preceded by two pages and accompanied by an outrider. La Mole thought he +recognized the litter, and quickly stepped aside. + +The young man was not mistaken. + +"Monsieur de la Mole!" exclaimed a sweet voice from the litter, while a +hand as white and as smooth as satin drew back the curtains. + +"Yes, madame, in person," replied La Mole bowing. + +"Monsieur de la Mole with a plume in his hand," continued the lady in +the litter. "Are you in love, my dear monsieur, and are you recovering +lost traces?" + +"Yes, madame," replied La Mole, "I am in love, and very much so. But +just now these are my own traces that I have found, although they are +not those for which I am searching. But will your majesty permit me to +inquire after your health?" + +"It is excellent, monsieur; it seems to me that I have never been +better. This probably comes from the fact of my having spent the night +in retreat." + +"Ah! in retreat!" said La Mole, looking at Marguerite strangely. + +"Well, yes; what is there surprising in that?" + +"May I, without indiscretion, ask you in what convent?" + +"Certainly, monsieur, I make no mystery of it; in the convent of the +_Annonciade_. But what are you doing here with this startled air?" + +"Madame, I too passed the night in retreat, and in the vicinity of the +same convent. This morning I am looking for my friend who has +disappeared, and in seeking him I came upon this plume." + +"Whom does it belong to? Really, you frighten me about him; the place is +a bad one." + +"Your majesty may be reassured; the plume belongs to me. I lost it here +about half-past five, as I was escaping from the hands of four bandits +who tried with all their might to murder me, or at least I think they +did." + +Marguerite repressed a quick gesture of terror. + +"Oh! tell me about it!" said she. + +"Nothing is easier, madame. It was, as I have had the honor to tell your +majesty, about five o'clock in the morning." + +"And you were already out at five o'clock in the morning?" interrupted +Marguerite. + +"Your majesty will excuse me," said La Mole, "I had not yet returned." + +"Ah! Monsieur de la Mole! you returned at five o'clock in the morning!" +said Marguerite with a smile which was fatal for every one, and which La +Mole was unfortunate enough to find adorable; "you returned so late, you +merited this punishment!" + +"Therefore I do not complain, madame," said La Mole, bowing +respectfully, "and I should have been cut to pieces had I not considered +myself a hundred times more fortunate than I deserve to be. But I was +returning late, or early, as your majesty pleases, from that fortunate +house in which I had spent the night in retreat, when four cut-throats +rushed from the Rue de la Mortellerie and pursued me with indescribably +long knives. It is grotesque, is it not, madame? but it is true--I had +to run away, for I had forgotten my sword." + +"Oh! I understand," said Marguerite, with an admirably naïve manner, +"and you have come back to find your sword?" + +La Mole looked at Marguerite as though a suspicion flashed through his +mind. + +"Madame, I would return to some place and very willingly too, since my +sword is an excellent blade, but I do not know where the house is." + +"What, monsieur?" exclaimed Marguerite. "You do not know where the house +is in which you passed the night?" + +"No, madame, and may Satan exterminate me if I have any idea!" + +"Well this is strange! your story, then, is a romance?" + +"A true romance, as you say, madame." + +"Tell it to me." + +"It is somewhat long." + +"Never mind, I have time." + +"And, above all, it is improbable." + +"Never mind, no one could be more credulous than I." + +"Does your majesty command me?" + +"Why, yes; if necessary." + +"In that case I obey. Last evening, having left two adorable women with +whom we had spent the evening on the Saint Michel bridge, we took supper +at Maître La Hurière's." + +"In the first place," said Marguerite, perfectly naturally, "who is +Maître La Hurière?" + +"Maître La Hurière, madame," said La Mole, again glancing at Marguerite +with the suspicion he had already felt, "Maître La Hurière is the host +of the inn of the _Belle Étoile_ in the Rue de l'Arbre Sec." + +"Yes, I can see it from here. You were supping, then, at Maître La +Hurière's with your friend Coconnas, no doubt?" + +"Yes, madame, with my friend Coconnas, when a man entered and handed us +each a note." + +"Were they alike?" asked Marguerite. + +"Exactly alike. They contained only a single line: + +"'_You are awaited in the Rue Saint Antoine, opposite the Rue Saint +Jouy_.'" + +"And had the note no signature?" asked Marguerite. + +"No; only three words--three charming words which three times promised +the same thing, that is to say, a three-fold happiness." + +"And what were these three words?" + +"_Eros, Cupido, Amor_." + +"In short, three sweet words; and did they fulfil what they promised?" + +"Oh! more, madame, a hundred times more!" cried La Mole with enthusiasm. + +"Continue. I am curious to know who was waiting for you in the Rue Saint +Antoine, opposite the Rue de Jouy." + +"Two duennas, each with a handkerchief in her hand. They said we must +let them bandage our eyes. Your majesty may imagine that it was not a +difficult thing to have done. We bravely extended our necks. My guide +turned me to the left, my friend's guide turned him to the right, and we +were separated." + +"And then?" continued Marguerite, who seemed determined to carry out the +investigation to the end. + +"I do not know," said La Mole, "where his guide led my friend. To hell, +perhaps. As to myself, all I know is that mine led me to a place I +consider paradise." + +"And whence, no doubt, your too great curiosity drove you?" + +"Exactly, madame; you have the gift of divination. I waited, +impatiently, for daylight, that I might see where I was, when at +half-past four the same duenna returned, again bandaged my eyes, made me +promise not to try to raise my bandage, led me outside, accompanied me +for a hundred feet, made me again swear not to remove my bandage until I +had counted fifty more. I counted fifty, and found myself in the Rue +Saint Antoine, opposite the Rue de Jouy." + +"And then"-- + +"Then, madame, I returned so happy that I paid no attention to the four +wretches, from whose clutches I had such difficulty in escaping. Now, +madame," continued La Mole, "in finding a piece of my plume here, my +heart trembled with joy, and I picked it up, promising myself to keep it +as a souvenir of this glad night. But in the midst of my happiness, one +thing troubles me; that is, what may have become of my companion." + +"Has he not returned to the Louvre?" + +"Alas! no, madame! I have searched everywhere, in the _Étoile d'Or_, on +the tennis courts, and in many other respectable places; but no Annibal, +and no Coconnas"-- + +As La Mole uttered these words he accompanied them with a gesture of +hopelessness, extended his arms and opened his cloak, underneath which +at various points his doublet was seen, the lining of which showed +through the rents like so many elegant slashes. + +"Why, you were riddled through and through!" exclaimed Marguerite. + +"Riddled is the word!" said La Mole, who was not sorry to turn to his +account the danger he had run. "See, madame, see!" + +"Why did you not change your doublet at the Louvre, since you returned +there?" asked the queen. + +"Ah!" said La Mole, "because some one was in my room." + +"Some one in your room?" said Marguerite, whose eyes expressed the +greatest astonishment; "who was in your room?" + +"His highness." + +"Hush!" interrupted Marguerite. + +The young man obeyed. + +"_Qui ad lecticam meam stant?_" she asked La Mole. + +"_Duo pueri et unus eques_." + +"_Optime, barbari!_" said she. "_Dic, Moles, quem inveneris in biculo +tuo?_" + +"_Franciscum ducem_." + +"_Agentem?_" + +"_Nescio quid_." + +"_Quocum?_" + +"_Cum ignoto._"[8] + +"That is strange," said Marguerite. "So you were unable to find +Coconnas?" she continued, without evidently thinking of what she was +saying. + +"So, madame, as I have had the honor of telling you, I am really dying +of anxiety." + +"Well," said Marguerite, sighing, "I do not wish to detain you longer in +your search for him; I do not know why I think so, but he will find +himself! Never mind, however, go, in spite of this." + +The queen laid a finger on her lips. But as beautiful Marguerite had +confided no secret, had made no avowal to La Mole, the young man +understood that this charming gesture, meaning only to impose silence on +him, must have another significance. + +The procession resumed its march, and La Mole, intent on following out +his investigation, continued to ascend the quay as far as the Rue Long +Pont which led him to the Rue Saint Antoine. + +Opposite the Rue Jouy he stopped. It was there that the previous evening +the two duennas had bandaged his eyes and those of Coconnas. He had +turned to the left, then he had counted twenty steps. He repeated this +and found himself opposite a house, or rather a wall, behind which rose +a house; in this wall was a door with a shed over it ornamented with +large nails and loop-holes. + +The house was in the Rue Cloche Percée, a small narrow street beginning +in the Rue Saint Antoine and ending in the Rue Roi de Sicile. + +"By Heaven!" cried La Mole, "it was here--I would swear to it--in +extending my hand, as I came out, I felt the nails in the door, then I +descended two steps. The man who ran by crying 'Help!' who was killed in +the Rue Roi de Sicile, passed just as I reached the first. Let us see, +now." + +La Mole went to the door and knocked. The door opened and a mustached +janitor appeared. + +"_Was ist das?_" (Who is that?) asked the janitor. + +"Ah! ah!" said La Mole, "we are Swiss, apparently." "My friend," he +continued, assuming the most charming manner, "I want my sword which I +left in this house in which I spent the night." + +"_Ich verstehe nicht_," (I do not understand,) replied the janitor. + +"My sword," went on La Mole. + +"_Ich verstehe nicht_," repeated the janitor. + +"--which I left--my sword which I left"-- + +"_Ich verstehe nicht._" + +"--in this house, in which I spent the night." + +"_Gehe zum Teufel!_" (Go to the devil!) And he slammed the door in La +Mole's face. + +"By Heaven!" cried La Mole, "if I had this sword I have just asked for, +I would gladly put it through that fellow's body. But I have not, and +this must wait for another day." + +Thereupon La Mole continued his way to the Rue Roi de Sicile, took about +fifty steps to the right, then to the left again, and came to the Rue +Tizon, a little street running parallel with the Rue Cloche Percée, and +like it in every way. More than this, scarcely had he gone thirty steps +before he came upon the door with the large nails, with its shed and +loop-holes, the two steps and the wall. One would have said that the Rue +Cloche Percée had returned to see him pass by. + +La Mole then reflected that he might have mistaken his right for his +left, and he knocked at this door, to make the same demand he had made +at the other. But this time he knocked in vain. The door was not opened. + +Two or three times La Mole made the same trip, which naturally led him +to the idea that the house had two entrances, one on the Rue Cloche +Percée, the other on the Rue Tizon. + +But this conclusion, logical as it was, did not bring him back his +sword, and did not tell him where his friend was. For an instant he +conceived the idea of buying another sword and cutting to pieces the +wretched janitor who so persistently refused to speak anything but +German, but he thought this porter belonged to Marguerite, and that if +Marguerite had chosen thus, it was because she had her reasons, and that +it might be disagreeable for her to be deprived of him. + +Now La Mole would not have done anything disagreeable to Marguerite for +anything in the world. + +Fearing to yield to this temptation he returned about two o'clock in the +afternoon to the Louvre. + +As his room was not occupied this time he could enter it. The matter was +urgent enough as far as his doublet was concerned, which, as the queen +had already remarked to him, was considerably torn. + +He therefore at once approached his bed to substitute the beautiful +pearl-gray doublet for the one he wore, when to his great surprise the +first thing he perceived near the pearl-gray doublet was the famous +sword which he had left in the Rue Cloche Percée. + +La Mole took it and turned it over and over. + +It was really his. + +"Ah! ah!" said he, "is there some magic under all this?" Then with a +sigh, "Ah! if poor Coconnas could be found like my sword!" + +Two or three hours after La Mole had ceased his circular tramp around +the small double house, the door on the Rue Tizon had opened. It was +about five o'clock in the evening, consequently night had closed in. + +A woman wrapped in a long cloak trimmed with fur, accompanied by an +attendant, came out of the door which was held open by a duenna of +forty, and hurrying rapidly along to the Rue Roi de Sicile, knocked at a +small door of the Hôtel Argenson, which opened for her; she then left by +the main entrance of the same hôtel which opened on to the Vieille Rue +du Temple, went toward a small postern in the Hôtel de Guise, unlocked +it with a key which she carried in her pocket, and disappeared. + +Half an hour later a young man with bandaged eyes left by the same door +of the small house, guided by a woman who led him to the corner of the +Rue Geoffroy Lasnier and La Mortellerie. There she asked him to count +fifty steps and then remove his bandage. + +The young man carefully obeyed the order, and when he had counted fifty, +removed the handkerchief from his eyes. + +"By Heaven!" cried he, looking around. "I'll be hanged if I know where I +am! Six o'clock!" he cried, as the clock of Notre-Dame struck, "and poor +La Mole, what can have become of him? Let us run to the Louvre, perhaps +they may have news of him there." + +Coconnas hurriedly descended the Rue La Mortellerie, and reached the +gates of the Louvre in less time than it would have taken an ordinary +horse. As he went he jostled and knocked down the moving hedge of brave +bourgeois who were walking peacefully about the shops of the Place de +Baudoyer, and entered the palace. + +There he questioned the Swiss and the sentinel. The former thought they +had seen Monsieur de la Mole enter that morning, but had not seen him go +out. + +The sentinel had been there only an hour and a half and had seen +nothing. + +He ran to his room and hastily threw open the door; but he found only +the torn doublet of La Mole on the bed, which increased his fears still +more. + +Then he thought of La Hurière and hastened to the worthy inn of the +_Belle Étoile_. La Hurière had seen La Mole; La Mole had breakfasted +there. Coconnas was thus wholly reassured, and as he was very hungry he +ordered supper. + +Coconnas was in the two moods necessary for a good supper--his mind was +relieved and his stomach was empty; therefore he supped so well that the +meal lasted till eight o'clock. Then strengthened by two bottles of +light wine from Anjou, of which he was very fond and which he tossed off +with a sensual enjoyment shown by winks of his eyes and repeated +smacking of his lips, he set out again in his search for La Mole, +accompanying it through the crowd by kicks and knocks of his feet in +proportion to the increasing friendship inspired in him by the comfort +which always follows a good meal. + +That lasted one hour, during which time Coconnas searched every street +in the vicinity of the Quay of the Grève, the Port au Charbon, the Rue +Saint Antoine, and the Rues Tizon and Cloche Percée, to which he thought +his friend might have returned. Finally he bethought himself that there +was a place through which he had to pass, the gate of the Louvre, and he +resolved to wait at this gate until his return. + +He was not more than a hundred steps from the Louvre, and had just put +on her feet a woman whose husband he had already overturned on the Place +Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, when in the distance he perceived before him +in the doubtful light of a great lantern near the drawbridge of the +Louvre the cherry-colored velvet cloak and the white plume of his +friend, who like a shadow was disappearing under the gate and returning +the sentinel's greeting. + +The famous cherry-colored cloak was so well known to every one that he +could not be mistaken in it. + +"Well! by Heaven!" cried Coconnas; "it is really he this time, and he is +returning. Well! well! La Mole, my friend! Plague it! Yet I have a good +voice. How does it happen that he does not hear me? Fortunately I have +as good legs as I have voice, so I will join him." + +In this hope Coconnas set out as fast as he could, and reached the +Louvre in an instant, but, fast as he was, just as he stepped into the +court the red cloak, which seemed in haste also, disappeared in the +vestibule. + +"Hi there! La Mole!" cried Coconnas, still hastening. "Wait for me. It +is I, Coconnas. What in the devil are you hurrying so for? Are you +running away?" + +In fact the red cloak, as though it had wings, scaled the stairs rather +than mounted them. + +"Ah! you will not hear me!" cried Coconnas. "I am angry with you! Are +you sorry? Well, the devil! I can run no further." It was from the foot +of the staircase that Coconnas hurled this final apostrophe to the +fugitive whom he gave up following with his feet, but whom he still +followed with his eyes through the screw of the stairway, and who had +reached Marguerite's chamber. Suddenly a woman came out of this room and +took the arm of the man Coconnas was following. + +"Oh! oh!" said Coconnas, "that looked very much like Queen Marguerite. +He was expected. In that case it is different. I understand why he did +not answer me." + +Crouching down by the banister he looked through the opening of the +stairway. Then after a few words in a low voice he saw the red cloak +follow the queen to her apartments. + +"Good! good!" said Coconnas, "that is it. I was not mistaken. There are +moments when the presence of our best friend is necessary to us, and +dear La Mole has one of those moments." + +And Coconnas ascending the stairs softly sat down on a velvet bench +which ornamented the landing place, and said to himself: + +"Very well, instead of joining him I will wait--yes; but," he added, "I +think as he is with the Queen of Navarre I may have to wait long--it is +cold, by Heaven! Well! well! I can wait just as well in my room. He will +have to come there sometime." + +Scarcely had he finished speaking, and started to carry out his +resolution, when a quick light step sounded above him, accompanied by a +snatch of song so familiar that Coconnas at once turned his head in the +direction of the step and the song. It was La Mole descending from the +upper story, where his room was. When he perceived Coconnas, he began to +descend the stairs four steps at a time, and this done he threw himself +into his arms. + +"Oh, Heavens! is it you?" said Coconnas. "How the devil did you get +out?" + +"By the Rue Cloche Percée, by Heavens!" + +"No, I do not mean that house." + +"What then?" + +"The queen's apartment." + +"The queen's apartment?" + +"The Queen of Navarre." + +"I have not been there." + +"Come now!" + +"My dear Annibal," said La Mole, "you are out of your head. I have come +from my room where I have been waiting for you for two hours." + +"You have come from your room?" + +"Yes." + +"Was it not you I followed from the Place du Louvre?" + +"When?" + +"Just now." + +"No." + +"It was not you who disappeared under the gate ten minutes ago?" + +"No." + +"It was not you who just ascended the stairs as if you were pursued by a +legion of devils?" + +"No." + +"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas, "the wine of the _Belle Étoile_ is not poor +enough to have so completely turned my head. I tell you that I have just +seen your cherry-colored cloak and your white plume under the gate of +the Louvre, that I followed both to the foot of the stairway, and that +your cloak, your plume, everything, to your swinging arm, was expected +here by a lady whom I greatly suspect to be the Queen of Navarre, and +who led you through that door, which, unless I am mistaken, is that of +the beautiful Marguerite." + +"By Heaven!" cried La Mole, growing pale, "could there be treason?" + +"Very good!" said Coconnas, "swear as much as you please, but do not +tell me I am mistaken." + +La Mole hesitated an instant, pressing his head between his hands, +deterred by respect and jealousy. His jealousy conquered him, however, +and he hastened to the door, at which he knocked with all his might. +This caused a somewhat unusual hubbub considering the dignity of the +place in which it occurred. + +"We shall be arrested," said Coconnas, "but no matter, it is very funny. +Tell me, La Mole, are there ghosts in the Louvre?" + +"I know nothing about it," said the young man as pale as the plume which +shaded his brow; "but I have always wanted to see one, and as the +opportunity presents itself I shall do my best to come face to face with +this one." + +"I shall not prevent you," said Coconnas, "only knock a little less +fiercely if you do not wish to frighten it away." + +La Mole, exasperated as he was, felt the justice of the remark, and +began to knock more gently. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV. + +THE CHERRY-COLORED CLOAK. + + +Coconnas was not mistaken. The lady who had stopped the cavalier of the +cherry-colored cloak was indeed the Queen of Navarre. As to the +cavalier, our reader has already guessed, I presume, that he was no +other than brave De Mouy. Upon recognizing the Queen of Navarre the +young Huguenot realized that there was some mistake; but he dared not +speak, fearing a cry from Marguerite would betray him. He preferred to +let himself be led to her apartments, and when once there to say to his +beautiful guide: + +"Silence for silence, madame." + +Marguerite had gently pressed the arm of him whom in the semi-darkness +she had mistaken for La Mole, and leaning toward him whispered in Latin: + +"_Sola sum; introito, carissime._"[9] + +De Mouy without answering let her lead him along; but scarcely was the +door closed behind him and he found himself in the antechamber, which +was better lighted than the stairway, before Marguerite saw that he was +not La Mole. + +Thereupon the cry which the cautious Huguenot had feared escaped +Marguerite; but fortunately there was no further danger from it. + +"Monsieur de Mouy!" cried she, stepping back. + +"In person, madame, and I beg your majesty to leave me free to continue +my way without mentioning my presence in the Louvre to any one." + +"Oh! Monsieur de Mouy!" reiterated Marguerite, "I was mistaken, then!" + +"Yes," said De Mouy, "I understand. Your majesty mistook me for the King +of Navarre. I am the same height, I wear the same white plume, and many, +no doubt in order to flatter me, say I have the same gait." + +Marguerite looked closely at De Mouy. + +"Do you understand Latin, Monsieur de Mouy?" she asked. + +"I used to know it," replied the young man, "but I have forgotten it." + +Marguerite smiled. + +"Monsieur de Mouy," said she, "you may rely on my discretion. But as I +think I know the name of the one you are seeking in the Louvre, I will +offer my services to guide you directly to him." + +"Excuse me, madame," said De Mouy, "I think you are mistaken, and that +you are completely ignorant of"-- + +"What!" exclaimed Marguerite, "are you not looking for the King of +Navarre?" + +"Alas, madame," said De Mouy, "I regret to have to beg you especially to +conceal my presence in the Louvre from your husband, his majesty the +king." + +"Listen, Monsieur de Mouy," said Marguerite in surprise, "I have +considered you until now one of the strongest leaders of the Huguenot +party, and one of the most faithful partisans of the king my husband. Am +I mistaken?" + +"No, madame, for this very morning I was all that you say." + +"And what has changed you since this morning?" + +"Madame," said De Mouy, bowing, "kindly excuse me from answering, and do +me the favor to accept my homage." + +De Mouy, respectful but firm, started towards the door. + +Marguerite stopped him. + +"But, monsieur," said she, "if I were to ask you for a word of +explanation, my word is good, it seems to me?" + +"Madame," replied De Mouy, "I am obliged to keep silent, and this duty +must be very imperative for me not to have answered your majesty." + +"But, monsieur"-- + +"Your majesty may ruin me, madame, but you cannot ask me to betray my +new friends." + +"But the old ones, monsieur, have they too not some rights?" + +"Those who have remained true, yes; those who not only have abandoned +us, but themselves as well, no." + +Marguerite, thoughtful and anxious, would no doubt have answered by a +new question, had not Gillonne suddenly entered the apartment. + +"The King of Navarre!" she cried. + +"How is he coming?" + +"By the secret corridor." + +"Take monsieur out by the other." + +"Impossible, madame. Listen." + +"Some one is knocking?" + +"Yes, at the door to which you wish me to take monsieur." + +"Who is knocking?" + +"I do not know." + +"Go and see, and come back and tell me." + +"Madame," said De Mouy, "might I venture to remark to your majesty that +if the King of Navarre sees me at this hour and in this costume in the +Louvre, I am lost?" + +Marguerite seized De Mouy and pushed him towards the famous cabinet. + +"Step in here, monsieur," said she; "you will be as safe and as well +protected as if you were in your own house; I give you my word of +honor." + +De Mouy entered hastily. Scarcely was the door closed when Henry +appeared. + +This time Marguerite had no anxiety to hide--she was merely gloomy, and +love was far from her thoughts. + +As to Henry, he entered with that mistrust which in the most dangerous +moments caused him to notice the smallest details; whatever the +circumstances, Henry was an acute observer. Therefore he at once saw the +cloud on Marguerite's brow. + +"You are busy, madame?" said he. + +"I? Why, yes, sire, I was dreaming." + +"You do well, madame. Dreaming is becoming to you. I too was dreaming; +but contrary to you who seek solitude, I have come on purpose to share +my dreams, with you." Marguerite gave the king a gesture of welcome, and +indicating an armchair to him, seated herself on a chair of sculptured +ebony, as delicate and as strong as steel. There was an instant's +silence; then Henry broke it. + +"I remembered, madame," said he, "that my dreams as to the future +corresponded with yours in so far as although separated as husband and +wife, nevertheless we both desire to unite our fortune." + +"That is true, sire." + +"I think I understood you to say also that in all the plans I might make +toward our mutual rising, I would find in you not only a faithful but an +active ally." + +"Yes, sire, and I ask only one thing, that in beginning the work as soon +as possible, you will give me the opportunity to begin also." + +"I am glad to find you of this mind, madame, and I trust that you have +not for one instant doubted that I would lose sight of the plan I +resolved to carry out the very day when, thanks to your brave +intervention, I was almost sure of being safe." + +"Monsieur, I think that your carelessness is nothing but a mask, and I +have faith not only in the predictions by the astrologers, but in your +good genius as well." + +"What should you say, madame, if someone were to upset our plans and +threaten to reduce us to an ordinary position?" + +"I should say that I was ready to fight with you, either openly or in +secret, against this someone, whoever he might be." + +"Madame," continued Henry, "it is possible for you, is it not, to gain +immediate admission into the room of your brother, Monsieur d'Alençon? +You are in his confidence and he is very friendly to you; might I +venture to beg you to find out if he is at present holding a secret +conference with someone?" + +Marguerite gave a start. + +"With whom, monsieur?" she asked. + +"With De Mouy." + +"Why?" asked Marguerite, repressing her emotion. + +"Because if such is the case, madame, farewell to all our projects, or +to all mine, at least." + +"Sire, speak softly," said Marguerite, making a sign with her eyes and +lips, and pointing to the cabinet. + +"Oh! oh!" said Henry, "still someone? Indeed, that cabinet is so often +occupied that it makes your room uninhabitable." + +Marguerite smiled. + +"Is it still Monsieur de la Mole?" asked Henry. + +"No, sire, it is Monsieur de Mouy." + +"He?" cried Henry with surprise mingled with joy. "He is not with the +Duc d'Alençon, then? Oh! have him come in, that I may talk to him." + +Marguerite stepped to the cabinet, opened it, and taking De Mouy by the +hand led him without preamble to the King of Navarre. + +"Ah! madame," said the young Huguenot, in a tone of reproach more sad +than bitter, "you have betrayed me in spite of your promise; that is +wrong. What should you do if I were to avenge myself by saying"-- + +"You will not avenge yourself, De Mouy," interrupted Henry, pressing the +young man's hand, "or at least you will listen to me first. Madame," +continued Henry, turning to the queen, "be kind enough, I beg you, to +see that no one overhears us." + +Scarcely had Henry uttered these words when Gillonne entered, +frightened, and whispered a few words to Marguerite, which caused the +latter to spring from her seat. While she hastened to the antechamber +with Gillonne, Henry, without troubling himself as to why she had left +the room, examined the bed, the side of it, as well as the draperies, +and sounded the wall with his fingers. As to Monsieur de Mouy, +frightened at all these preparations, he first of all made sure that his +sword was out of its sheath. + +Leaving her sleeping-room, Marguerite hastened to the antechamber and +came face to face with La Mole, who in spite of all the protests of +Gillonne had forced his way into Marguerite's room. + +Coconnas was behind him, ready to urge him forward or sustain a retreat. + +"Ah! it is you, Monsieur la Mole!" cried the queen; "but what is the +matter, and why are you so pale and trembling?" + +"Madame," said Gillonne, "Monsieur de la Mole knocked at the door so +that, in spite of your majesty's orders, I was forced to open it." + +"What is the meaning of this?" said the queen, severely; "is this true, +Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Madame, I wanted to warn your majesty that a stranger, a robber +perhaps, had gained admittance to your rooms with my cloak and my hat." + +"You are mad, monsieur," said Marguerite, "for I see your cloak on your +shoulders, and, God forgive me, I think I see your hat on your head, +even though you are speaking to a queen." + +"Oh! pardon me, madame, pardon me!" cried La Mole, quickly uncovering; +"but God is my witness, it is not my respect which is lacking." + +"No, it is your trust, is it not?" said the queen. + +"What can you expect?" cried La Mole, "when a man is in your majesty's +rooms; when he gains admittance by assuming my clothes, and perhaps my +name, who knows"-- + +"A man!" cried Marguerite, softly pressing her poor lover's arm; "a man! +You are modest, Monsieur de la Mole. Look through the opening of the +portière and you will see two men." + +Marguerite drew back the velvet portière embroidered in gold, and La +Mole saw Henry talking with the man in the cherry-colored cloak. +Coconnas, as though he himself were concerned, looked also, saw, and +recognized De Mouy. Both men stood amazed. + +"Now that you are reassured, or at least now that I hope you are," said +Marguerite, "take your stand outside my door, and for your life, my dear +La Mole, let no one enter. If any one even approaches the stairs, warn +me." La Mole, weak and obedient as a child, withdrew, glancing at +Coconnas, who looked at him. Both found themselves outside without +having thoroughly recovered from their astonishment. + +"De Mouy!" cried Coconnas. + +"Henry!" murmured La Mole. + +"De Mouy with your cherry-colored cloak, your white plume, and your +swinging arm." + +"Ah!" went on La Mole, "the moment it is not a question of love, it is a +question of plot." + +"By Heaven! here we are in the midst of politics," said Coconnas +grumbling. "Fortunately I do not see Madame de Nevers mixed up in it." + +Marguerite returned and sat down by the two speakers. She had been gone +only a moment, but had made the most of her time. Gillonne, on guard in +the secret passage, and the two gentlemen on duty at the main entrance, +assured perfect safety for her. + +"Madame," said Henry, "do you think it would be possible for us to be +overheard in any way?" + +"Monsieur," said Marguerite, "the walls of this room are wadded, and a +double wainscoting deadens all sound." + +"I depend on you," replied Henry smiling. Then turning to De Mouy: + +"Now," said the king, in a low tone, as if in spite of the assurance of +Marguerite his fears were not wholly overcome, "what are you here for?" + +"Here?" said De Mouy. + +"Yes, here, in this room," repeated Henry. + +"He had nothing to do here," said Marguerite; "I induced him to come." + +"You?" + +"I guessed everything." + +"You see, De Mouy, we can discover what is going on." + +"This morning," continued Marguerite, "Monsieur de Mouy was with Duc +François in the apartment of two of his gentlemen." + +"You see, De Mouy," repeated Henry, "we know everything." + +"That is true," said De Mouy. + +"I was sure," said Henry, "that Monsieur d'Alençon had taken possession +of you." + +"That is your fault, sire. Why did you so persistently refuse what I +offered you?" + +"You refused!" exclaimed Marguerite. "The refusal I feared, then, was +real?" + +"Madame," said Henry, shaking his head, "and you, my brave De Mouy, +really, you make me laugh with your exclamations. What! a man enters my +chamber, speaks to me of a throne, of a revolt, of a revolution, to me, +Henry, a prince tolerated provided that I eat humble pie, a Huguenot +spared on condition that I play the Catholic; and I am expected to +accept, when these propositions are made in a room without padding or +double wainscoting! _Ventre saint gris!_ You are either children or +fools!" + +"But, sire, could not your majesty have left me some hope, if not by +word, at least by a gesture or sign?" + +"What did my brother-in-law say to you, De Mouy?" asked Henry. + +"Oh, sire, that is not my secret." + +"Well, my God!" continued Henry, with a certain impatience at having to +deal with a man who so poorly understood his words. "I do not ask what +you proposed to him, I ask you merely if he listened to you, if he heard +you." + +"He listened, sire, and he heard." + +"He listened and he heard! You admit it yourself, De Mouy, tactless +conspirator that you are! Had I said one word you would have been lost, +for I did not know, I merely suspected that he was there, or if not he, +someone else, the Duc d'Anjou, Charles IX., or the queen mother, for +instance. You do not know the walls of the Louvre, De Mouy; it was for +them that the proverb was made which says that walls have ears; and +knowing these walls you expected me to speak! Well, well, De Mouy, you +pay a small compliment to the common sense of the King of Navarre, and I +am surprised that not esteeming him more highly you should have offered +him a crown." + +"But, sire," said De Mouy, "could you not even while refusing this crown +have given me some sign? In that case I should not have considered +everything hopeless and lost." + +"Well! _Ventre saint gris!_" exclaimed Henry, "if one can hear cannot +one see also? and is not one lost by a sign as much as by a word? See, +De Mouy," continued the king, looking around him, "at the present +moment, so near to you that my words do not reach beyond the circle of +our three chairs, I still fear I may be overheard when I say: De Mouy, +repeat your proposal to me." + +"But, sire," cried De Mouy in despair, "I am now engaged with Monsieur +d'Alençon." + +Marguerite angrily clasped and unclasped her beautiful hands. + +"Then it is too late?" said she. + +"On the contrary," murmured Henry, "know that even in this, God's hand +is visible. Continue your arrangement, De Mouy, for in Duc François lies +our safety. Do you suppose that the King of Navarre would guarantee +your heads? On the contrary, wretched man, I should have you all killed +to the last one, and on the least suspicion. But with a son of France it +is different. Secure proofs, De Mouy, ask for guarantees; but, stupid +that you are, you will be deeply involved, and one word will suffice for +you." + +"Oh, sire, it was my despair at your having left us, believe me, which +threw me into the arms of the duke; it was also the fear of being +betrayed, for he kept our secret." + +"Keep his, now, De Mouy; it rests with you. What does he wish? To leave +court? Furnish him with means to escape. Work for him, De Mouy, as if +you were working for me, turn the shield so that he may parry every blow +they aim at us. When it is time to flee, we will both flee. When it is +time to fight and reign, I will reign alone." + +"Do not trust the duke," said Marguerite, "he is gloomy and acute, +without hatred as without love; ever ready to treat his friends like +enemies and his enemies like friends." + +"And he is expecting you now, De Mouy?" said Henry. + +"Yes, sire." + +"Where?" + +"In the apartment belonging to his two gentlemen." + +"At what time?" + +"Before midnight." + +"It is not yet eleven o'clock," said Henry, "so you have lost no time; +now you may go, De Mouy." + +"We have your word, monsieur?" said Marguerite. + +"Come now, madame!" said Henry, with the confidence he knew so well how +to use with certain people and on certain occasions, "with Monsieur de +Mouy, such things are not even asked for." + +"You are right, sire," replied the young man; "but I need your word, for +I shall have to tell the leaders that I have it. You are not a Catholic, +are you?" + +Henry shrugged his shoulders. + +"You do not renounce the kingdom of Navarre?" + +"I renounce no kingdom, De Mouy, I merely reserve for myself the choice +of the best; that is, the one which shall best suit me and you." + +"And if in the meantime your majesty should be arrested, you would +promise to reveal nothing even should they torture your royal majesty?" + +"De Mouy, I swear that, before God." + +"One further word, sire. How am I to see you in future?" + +"After to-morrow you shall have a key to my room. You will come there, +De Mouy, as often as it may be necessary and when you please. It is for +the Duc d'Alençon to answer for your presence in the Louvre. In the +meantime, use the small stairway. I will show you the way. The queen +will have the cherry-colored cloak like yours come here--the one who was +in the antechamber just now. No one must notice any difference between +you, or know that there are two of you, De Mouy. Do you not agree with +me? And you, madame?" Henry looked at Marguerite and uttered the last +words with a smile. + +"Yes," said she, without moving a feature; "for this Monsieur de la Mole +belongs to my brother, the duke." + +"Well, madame, try to win him over to our side," said Henry, in perfect +seriousness. "Spare neither gold nor promises; I will put all my +treasures at his disposal." + +"In that case," said Marguerite, with one of the smiles which belong +only to the women of Boccaccio, "since this is your wish, I will do my +best to second it." + +"Very good, madame; and you, De Mouy, return to the duke, and make sure +of him." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI. + +MARGARITA. + + + +During the conversation which we have just related, La Mole and Coconnas +mounted guard. La Mole somewhat chagrined, Coconnas somewhat anxious. La +Mole had had time to reflect, and in this he had been greatly aided by +Coconnas. + +"What do you think of all this, my friend?" La Mole had asked of +Coconnas. + +"I think," the Piedmontese had replied, "that there is some court +intrigue connected with it." + +"And such being the case, are you disposed to play a part in it?" + +"My dear fellow," replied Coconnas, "listen well to what I am going to +say to you and try and profit by it. In all these princely dealings, in +all royal affairs, we can and should be nothing but shadows. Where the +King of Navarre leaves a bit of his plume and the Duc d'Alençon a piece +of his cloak, we leave our lives. The queen has a fancy for you, and you +for her. Nothing is better. Lose your head in love, my dear fellow, but +not in politics." + +That was wise council. Therefore it was heard by La Mole with the +melancholy of a man who feels that, placed between reason and madness, +it is madness he will follow. + +"I have not a fancy for the queen, Annibal, I love her; and fortunately +or unfortunately I love her with all my heart. This is madness, you will +say. Well, I admit that I am mad. But you are wise, Coconnas, you ought +not to suffer for my foolishness and my misfortune. Go back to our +master and do not compromise yourself." + +Coconnas pondered an instant. Then raising his head: + +"My dear fellow," he replied, "all that you tell me is perfectly +reasonable; you are in love--act, therefore, like a lover. I am +ambitious, and being so, I think life is worth more to me than a woman's +kiss. When I risk my life, I make my own conditions. Try, so far as you +are concerned, my poor Medor, to make yours." + +Whereupon Coconnas extended his hand to La Mole and withdrew, having +exchanged a final glance and a final smile with his friend. + +About ten minutes after he left his post, the door opened, and +Marguerite, peering out cautiously, took La Mole by the hand and, +without uttering a word, drew him from the corridor into the furthest +corner of her room. She closed the door behind her with a care which +indicated the importance of the conversation she was about to have. + +Once in her room she stopped, seated herself on her ebony chair, and +drawing La Mole to her, she clasped her hands over both of his. + +"Now that we are alone," said she, "let us talk seriously, my very dear +friend." + +"Seriously, madame," said La Mole. + +"Or lovingly. Does that please you better? But there can be serious +things in love, and especially in the love of a queen." + +"Then--let us talk of serious things; but on condition that your majesty +will not be vexed at the lighter things I have to say to you." + +"I shall be vexed only at one thing, La Mole, and that is if you address +me as 'madame' or 'your majesty.' For you, my beloved, I am just +Marguerite." + +"Yes, Marguerite! Yes, Margarita! Yes, my pearl!" cried the young man, +devouring the queen with his eyes. + +"Yes, that is right," said Marguerite. "So you are jealous, my fine +gentleman?" + +"Oh! unreasonably." + +"Still?" + +"Madly, Marguerite." + +"Jealous of whom? Come!" + +"Of everyone." + +"But really?" + +"Of the king first." + +"I should think after what you had seen and heard you might be easy on +that point." + +"Of this Monsieur de Mouy, whom I saw this morning for the first time, +and whom this evening I find so far advanced in his intimacy with you." + +"Monsieur de Mouy?" + +"Yes." + +"Who gave you such ideas about Monsieur de Mouy?" + +"Listen! I recognized him from his figure, from the color of his hair, +from a natural feeling of hatred. He is the one who was with Monsieur +d'Alençon this morning." + +"Well, what connection has that with me?" + +"Monsieur d'Alençon is your brother. It is said that you are very fond +of him. You may have confided to him a vague feeling of your heart, and, +according to the custom at court, he has aided your wish by admitting +Monsieur de Mouy to your apartment. Now, what I do not understand is +how I was fortunate enough to find the king here at the same time. But +in any case, madame, be frank with me. In default of other sentiment, a +love like mine has the right to demand frankness in return. See, I +prostrate myself at your feet. If what you have felt for me is but a +passing fancy, I will give you back your trust, your promise, your love; +I will give back to Monsieur d'Alençon his kind favors and my post of +gentleman, and I will go and seek death at the siege of La Rochelle, if +love does not kill me before I have gone as far as that." + +Marguerite listened smilingly to these charming words, watching La +Mole's graceful gestures, then leaning her beautiful dreamy head on her +feverish hand: + +"You love me?" she asked. + +"Oh, madame! more than life, more than safety, more than all; but you, +you--you do not love me." + +"Poor fool!" she murmured. + +"Ah, yes, madame," cried La Mole, still at her feet, "I have told you I +was that." + +"The chief thought of your life, then, is your love, dear La Mole!" + +"It is the only thought, madame, the sole thought." + +"Well, be it so; I will make of all the rest only an accessory to this +love. You love me; do you wish to remain near me?" + +"My one prayer is that God will never take me from you." + +"Well, you shall not leave me. I need you, La Mole." + +"You need me? Does the sun need the glow-worm?" + +"If I will tell you that I love you, would you be wholly devoted to me?" + +"Ah! am I not that already, madame, and more than wholly?" + +"Yes, but, God forgive me, you still doubt!" + +"Oh! I am wrong, I am ungrateful, or, rather, as I have told you and +repeated to you, I am a fool. But why was Monsieur de Mouy with you this +evening? why did I see him this morning with Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon? +Why that cherry-colored cloak, that white plume, that affected imitation +of my gait? Ah! madame, it is not you whom I suspect, but your brother." + +"Wretched man!" said Marguerite, "wretched man to suppose that Duc +François would push complacency so far as to introduce a wooer to his +sister's room! Mad enough to be jealous, and yet not to have guessed! Do +you know, La Mole, that the Duc d'Alençon would run you through with his +own sword if he knew that you were here, this evening, at my feet, and +that instead of sending you away I were saying to you: 'Stay here where +you are, La Mole; for I love you, my fine gentleman, do you hear? I love +you!' Ah, yes! he would certainly kill you." + +"Great God!" cried La Mole, starting back and looking at Marguerite in +terror, "is it possible?" + +"Everything is possible, my friend, in these times and at this court. +Now, one word; it was not for me that Monsieur de Mouy, in your cloak, +his face hidden under your hat, came to the Louvre. It was for Monsieur +d'Alençon. But I, thinking it was you, brought him here. He knows our +secret, La Mole, and must be carefully managed." + +"I should prefer to kill him," said La Mole; "that is shorter and +surer." + +"And I, my brave gentleman," said the queen, "I prefer him to live, and +for you to know everything, for not only is his life useful to us, but +it is necessary. Listen and weigh your words well before you answer. Do +you love me enough, La Mole, to be glad if I were really to become a +queen; that is, queen of a real kingdom?" + +"Alas, madame, I love you enough to wish what you wish, even should this +desire ruin my whole life!" + +"Well, do you want to aid me to realize this desire, which would make +you still happier?" + +"Oh! I should lose you, madame," cried La Mole hiding his head in his +hands. + +"No, on the contrary. Instead of being the first of my servants, you +would become the first of my subjects, that is all." + +"Oh! no interest--no ambition, madame--do not sully the feeling I have +for you--the devotion, nothing but devotion!" + +"Noble nature!" said Marguerite; "well, yes, I accept your devotion, and +I shall find out how to reward it." + +She extended both her hands, and La Mole covered them with kisses. + +"Well!" said she. + +"Well, yes!" replied La Mole, "yes, Marguerite, I am beginning to +comprehend this vague project already talked of by us Huguenots before +the massacre of Saint Bartholomew, the scheme for the execution of which +I, like many another worthier than myself, was sent to Paris. You covet +this actual kingdom of Navarre which is to take the place of an +imaginary kingdom. King Henry drives you to it; De Mouy conspires with +you, does he not? But the Duc d'Alençon, what is he doing in it all? +Where is there a throne for him? I do not see. Now, is the Duc d'Alençon +sufficiently your--friend to aid you in all this without asking anything +in exchange for the danger he runs?" + +"The duke, my friend, is conspiring on his own account. Let us leave him +to his illusions. His life answers for ours." + +"But I, who belong to him, can I betray him?" + +"Betray him! In what are you betraying him? What has he confided to you? +Is it not he who has betrayed you by giving your cloak and hat to De +Mouy as a means of gaining him admittance to his apartments? You belong +to him, you say! Were you not mine, my gentleman, before you were his? +Has he given you a greater proof of friendship than the proof of love +you have from me?" + +La Mole arose, pale and completely overcome. + +"Oh!" he murmured, "Coconnas was right, intrigue is enveloping me in its +folds. It will suffocate me." + +"Well?" asked Marguerite. + +"Well," said La Mole, "this is my answer: it is said, and I heard it at +the other end of France, where your illustrious name and your universal +reputation for beauty touched my heart like a vague desire for the +unknown,--it is said that sometimes you love, but that your love is +always fatal to those you love, so that death, jealous, no doubt, almost +always removes your lovers." + +"La Mole!" + +"Do not interrupt me, oh, my well-loved Margarita, for they add that you +preserve the hearts of these faithful friends in gold boxes[10], and +that occasionally you bestow a melancholy thought, a pious glance on the +sad remains. You sigh, my queen, your eyes droop; it is true. Well! make +me the dearest and the happiest of your favorites. You have pierced the +hearts of others, and you keep their hearts. You do more with me, you +expose my head. Well, Marguerite, swear to me before the image of the +God who has saved my life in this very place, swear to me, that if I die +for you, as a sad presentiment tells me I shall do, swear to me that you +will keep my head, which the hangman will separate from my body; and +that you will sometimes press your lips to it. Swear, Marguerite, and +the promise of such reward bestowed by my queen will make me silent, +and, if necessary, a traitor and a coward; this is being wholly devoted, +as your lover and your accomplice should be." + +"Oh! what ghastly foolishness, dear heart!" said Marguerite. "Oh! fatal +thought, sweet love." + +"Swear"-- + +"Swear?" + +"Yes, on this silver chest with its cross. Swear." + +"Well!" said Marguerite, "if--and God forbid!--your gloomy presentiment +is realized, my fine gentleman, on this cross I swear to you that you +shall be near me, living or dead, so long as I live; and if I am unable +to rescue you from the peril which comes to you through me, through me +alone, I will at least give to your poor soul the consolation for which +you ask, and which you will so well have deserved." + +"One word more, Marguerite. I can die now. I shall not mind death; but I +can live, too, for we may succeed. The King of Navarre, king, you may be +queen, in which case he will take you away. This vow of separation +between you will some day be broken, and will do away with ours. Now, +Marguerite, my well-beloved Marguerite, with a word you have taken away +my every fear of death; now with a word keep up my courage concerning +life." + +"Oh, fear nothing, I am yours, body and soul!" cried Marguerite, again +raising her hand to the cross on the little chest. "If I leave, you +follow, and if the king refuses to take you, then I shall not go." + +"But you dare not resist!" + +"My well-beloved Hyacinthe," said Marguerite, "you do not know Henry. At +present he is thinking of only one thing, that is, of being king. For +this he would sacrifice everything he owns, and, still more, what he +does not own. Now, adieu!" + +"Madame," said La Mole, smiling, "are you going to send me away?" + +"It is late," said Marguerite. + +"No doubt; but where would you have me go? Monsieur de Mouy is in my +room with Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon." + +"Ah! yes," said Marguerite, with a beautiful smile. "Besides, I have +still some things to tell you about this conspiracy." + +From that night La Mole was no longer an ordinary favorite. He well +might carry his head high, for which, living or dead, so sweet a future +was in store. + +And yet at times his weary brow was bent, his cheek grew pale, and deep +thoughts ploughed their furrows on the forehead of the young man, once +so light-hearted, now so happy! + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII. + +THE HAND OF GOD. + + +On leaving Madame de Sauve Henry had said to her: + +"Go to bed, Charlotte. Pretend that you are very ill, and on no account +see any one all day to-morrow." + +Charlotte obeyed without questioning the reason for this suggestion from +the king. She was beginning to be accustomed to his eccentricities, as +we should call them to-day, or to his whims as they were then called. +Moreover, she knew that deep in his heart Henry hid secrets which he +told to no one, in his mind plans which he feared to reveal even in his +dreams; so that she carried out all his wishes, knowing that his most +peculiar ideas had an object. + +Whereupon that evening she complained to Dariole of great heaviness in +her head, accompanied by dizziness. These were the symptoms which Henry +had suggested to her to feign. + +The following day she pretended that she wanted to rise, but scarcely +had she put her foot on the floor when she said she felt a general +debility, and went back to bed. + +This indisposition, which Henry had already announced to the Duc +d'Alençon, was the first news brought to Catharine when she calmly asked +why La Sauve was not present as usual at her levee. + +"She is ill!" replied Madame de Lorraine, who was there. + +"Ill!" repeated Catharine, without a muscle of her face betraying the +interest she took in the answer. "Some idle fatigue, perhaps." + +"No, madame," replied the princess. "She complains of a severe headache +and of weakness which prevents her from walking." Catharine did not +answer. But, to hide her joy, she turned to the window, and perceiving +Henry, who was crossing the court after his conversation with De Mouy, +she rose the better to see him. Driven by that conscience which, +although invisible, always throbs in the deepest recesses of hearts most +hardened to crime: + +"Does not my son Henry seem paler than usual this morning?" she asked +her captain of the guards. + +There was nothing in the question. Henry was greatly troubled mentally; +but physically he was very strong. + +By degrees those usually present at the queen's levee withdrew. Three or +four intimate ones remained longer than the others, but Catharine +impatiently dismissed them, saying that she wished to be alone. When the +last courtier had gone Catharine closed the door and going to a secret +closet hidden in one of the panels of her room she slid back a door in a +groove of wood and took out a book, the worn leaves of which showed +frequent use. Placing the volume on a table, she opened it to a +book-mark, then resting her elbow on the table and her head on one hand: + +"That is it," murmured she, reading, "'headache, general weakness, pain +in the eyes, swelling of the palate.' As yet they have mentioned only +the pains in the head and weakness. But the other symptoms will not be +slow in forthcoming." + +She continued: + +"'Then the inflammation reaches the throat, extends to the stomach, +surrounds the heart like a circle of fire, and causes the brain to burst +like a thunderclap,'" she read on to herself. Then in a low voice: + +"For the fever, six hours; for the general inflammation, twelve hours; +for the gangrene, twelve hours; for the suffering, six hours; in all +thirty-six hours. Now, suppose that the absorption is slow, and that +instead of thirty-six hours we have forty, even forty-eight, yes, +forty-eight hours should suffice. But Henry, how is it that he is still +up? Because he is a man, because he has a strong constitution, because +perhaps he drank after he kissed her, and wiped his lips after +drinking." + +Catharine awaited the dinner hour with impatience. + +Henry dined every day at the king's table. He came, he in turn +complained of pain in his head; he ate nothing, and withdrew immediately +after the meal, saying that having been awake a part of the previous +night, he felt a pressing need of sleep. + +Catharine listened as his uncertain steps died away. Then she had him +followed. She was told that the King of Navarre had gone to Madame de +Sauve's apartments. + +"Henry," said she to herself, "will this evening complete the work of +death which some unfortunate chance has left half finished." + +The King of Navarre had indeed gone to Madame de Sauve's room, but it +was to tell her to continue playing her rôle. + +The whole of the following morning Henry did not leave his chamber; nor +did he appear at dinner. Madame de Sauve, they said, was growing worse +and worse, and the report of Henry's illness, spread abroad by Catharine +herself, sped like one of those presentiments which hover in the air, +but which no one can explain. + +Catharine was delighted. The previous morning she had sent Ambroise Paré +to help one of her favorite servants, who was ill at Saint Germain, so +it had to be one of her own men who was called in to see Madame de Sauve +and Henry. This man would say only what she wished him to say. If, +contrary to all expectation, some other doctor had been summoned, and if +some whisper concerning poison had frightened the court, in which so +many such reports had already been circulated, she counted greatly on +the rumor to arouse the jealousy of Marguerite regarding the various +loves of her husband. We remember she had spoken strongly of this +jealousy which had been apparent on various occasions; among others, on +the hawthorn walk, where, in the presence of several persons, she had +said to her daughter: + +"So you are very jealous, Marguerite?" Therefore, with unruffled +features she waited for the door to open, when some pale, startled +servant would enter, crying: + +"Your majesty, the King of Navarre has been hurt, and Madame de Sauve is +dead!" Four o'clock in the afternoon struck. Catharine finished her +luncheon in the aviary, where she was crumbling some bread for her rare +birds which she herself had raised. Although her face was calm and even +gloomy, as usual, her heart throbbed violently at the slightest sound. +Suddenly the door opened. + +"Madame," said the captain of the guards, "the King of Navarre is"-- + +"Ill?" hastily interrupted Catharine. + +"No, madame, thank God! His majesty seems to be wonderfully well." + +"What is it, then?" + +"The King of Navarre is here." + +"What does he want?" + +"He is bringing your majesty a rare kind of monkey." + +Just then Henry entered holding in his hand a basket, in which was a +little monkey he was petting. + +He entered smiling and seemed wholly absorbed in the dear little animal +he brought; but occupied as he appeared to be, he did not fail to give +his usual first glance around. This was sufficient for him under trying +circumstances. As to Catharine, she was very pale, of a pallor which +deepened as she saw that the cheeks of the young man were flushed with +the glow of health. + +The queen mother was amazed at this turn of affairs. She accepted +Henry's gift mechanically, appeared agitated, complimented him on +looking so well, and added: + +"I am all the more pleased to see you looking so, because I heard that +you were ill, and because, if I remember rightly, you yourself +complained of not feeling well, in my presence. But I understand now," +she added, trying to smile, "it was an excuse so that you might be +free." + +"No, I have really been very ill, madame," said Henry, "but a specific +used in our mountains, and which comes from my mother, has cured my +indisposition." + +"Ah! you will give me the recipe, will you not, Henry?" said Catharine, +really smiling this time, but with an irony she could not disguise. + +"Some counter-poison," she murmured. "We must look into this; but no, +seeing Madame de Sauve ill, it will be suspected. Indeed, I believe that +the hand of God is over this man." + +Catharine waited impatiently for the night. Madame de Sauve did not +appear. At play she inquired for her, but was told that she was +suffering more and more. + +All the evening she was restless, and everyone anxiously wondered what +were the thoughts which could move this face usually so calm. + +At length everyone retired. Catharine had herself undressed and put to +bed by her ladies-in-waiting. Then when everyone had gone to sleep in +the Louvre, she rose, slipped on a long black dressing-gown, took a +lamp, chose from her keys the one which unlocked the door of Madame de +Sauve's apartments, and ascended the stairs to see her maid-of-honor. + +Had Henry foreseen this visit? Was he busy in his own rooms? Was he +hiding somewhere? However this may have been, the young woman was alone. +Catharine opened the door cautiously, crossed the antechamber, entered +the reception-room, set her lamp on a table, for a night lamp was +burning near the sick woman, and glided like a shadow into the +sleeping-room. Dariole in a deep armchair was sleeping near the bed of +her mistress. + +This bed was entirely shut in by curtains. + +The respiration of the young woman was so light that for an instant +Catharine thought she was not breathing at all. + +At length she heard a slight sigh, and with an evil joy she raised the +curtain in order to see for herself the effect of the terrible poison. +She trembled in advance at the sight of the livid pallor or the +devouring purple of the mortal fever she hoped for. But instead of this, +calm, with eyes hidden under their white lids, her mouth rosy and half +open, her moist cheek pressed gently against one of her gracefully +rounded arms, while the other arm, fresh and pearly, was thrown across +the crimson damask which served as counterpane, the beautiful young +woman lay sleeping with a smile still on her lips. No doubt some sweet +dream brought the smile to her lips, and to her cheek the flush of +health which nothing could disturb. Catharine could not refrain from +uttering a cry of surprise which roused Dariole for a moment. The queen +mother hastily stepped behind the curtains of the bed. + +Dariole opened her eyes, but overcome with sleep, without even wondering +in her drowsy mind why she had wakened, the young girl dropped her heavy +lids and slept again. + +Then Catharine came from behind the curtain, and glancing at the other +objects in the room, saw on a table a bottle of Spanish wine, some +fruit, pastry, and two glasses. Henry must have had supper with the +baroness, who apparently was as well as himself. Walking on tiptoe, +Catharine took up the small silver box that was partly empty. It was the +same or very similar to the one she had sent to Charlotte. She removed +from it a piece as large as a pearl on the point of a gold needle, +returned to her room, and gave it to the little ape which Henry had +brought her that evening. Attracted by the aromatic odor the animal +devoured it eagerly, and turning around in his basket, went to sleep. +Catharine waited a quarter of an hour. + +"With half of what he has just eaten," said she, "my dog Brutus died, +swelling up instantly. Some one has played me a trick. Is it Réné? +Impossible. Then it is Henry. O fatality! It is very evident that since +he is to reign he cannot die. But perhaps the poison was not strong +enough. We shall see by trying steel." + +And Catharine went to bed revolving in her mind a fresh idea which no +doubt was perfected the following day; for she called her captain of the +guards to her, gave him a letter, ordered him to take it to its address +and to deliver it only into the hands of the one for whom it was +intended. It was addressed to the Sire de Louvièrs de Maurevel, Captain +of the King's Petard Makers, Rue de la Cerisaie, near the Arsenal. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII. + +THE LETTER FROM ROME. + + +Several days elapsed after the events we have just described, when one +morning a litter escorted by several gentlemen wearing the colors of +Monsieur de Guise entered the Louvre, and word was brought to the Queen +of Navarre that Madame la Duchesse de Nevers begged the honor of an +audience. Marguerite was receiving a call from Madame de Sauve. It was +the first time the beautiful baroness had been out since her pretended +illness. She knew that the queen had expressed to her husband great +anxiety on account of her indisposition, which for almost a week had +been court gossip, and she had come to thank her. + +Marguerite congratulated her on her convalescence and on her good +fortune at having recovered so quickly from the strange malady, the +seriousness of which as a daughter of France she could not fail to +appreciate. + +"I trust you will attend the hunt, already once postponed," said +Marguerite. "It is planned positively for to-morrow. For winter, the +weather is very mild. The sun has softened the earth, and the hunters +all say that the day will be fine." + +"But, madame," said the baroness, "I do not know if I shall be strong +enough." + +"Bah!" exclaimed Marguerite, "make an effort; moreover, since I am one +of the hunters, I have told the King to reserve a small Béarnese horse +which I was to ride, but which will carry you perfectly. Have you not +already heard of it?" + +"Yes, madame, but I did not know that it was meant for your majesty. Had +I known that I should not have accepted it." + +"From a feeling of pride, baroness?" + +"No, madame, from a feeling of humility, on the contrary." + +"Then you will come?" + +"Your majesty overwhelms me with honor. I will come, since you command +me." + +At that moment Madame la Duchesse de Nevers was announced. At this name +Marguerite gave a cry of such delight that the baroness understood that +the two women wanted to talk together. She rose to leave. + +"Until to-morrow, then," said Marguerite. + +"Until to-morrow, madame." + +"By the way," continued Marguerite holding the baroness by the hand, +"you know that in public I hate you, for I am horribly jealous of you." + +"But in private?" asked Madame de Sauve. + +"Oh! in private, not only do I forgive you, but more than that, I thank +you." + +"Then your majesty will permit me"-- + +Marguerite held out her hand, the baroness kissed it respectfully, made +a low courtesy and went out. + +While Madame de Sauve ascended her stairway, bounding like a deer whose +tether has been broken, Madame de Nevers was exchanging a few formal +words with the queen, which gave time to the gentlemen who had +accompanied her to retire. + +"Gillonne," cried Marguerite when the door was closed behind the last, +"Gillonne, see that no one interrupts us." + +"Yes," said the duchess, "for we have matters of grave importance to +discuss." + +Taking a chair she seated herself without ceremony in the best place +near the fire and in the sunlight, sure that no one would interrupt the +pleasant intimacy between herself and the Queen of Navarre. + +"Well," said Marguerite, with a smile, "what about our famous +slaughterer?" + +"My dear queen," said the duchess, "he is a mythological creature, upon +my word. He is incomparable, so far as his mind is concerned, and never +dries up. He makes witty remarks that would make a saint in her shrine +die of laughing. In other respects he is the maddest heathen who ever +walked in the skin of a Catholic! I dote on him! And you, what are you +doing with your Apollo?" + +"Alas!" said Marguerite with a sigh. + +"Oh, how that 'alas!' frightens me, dear queen! Is the gentle La Mole +too respectful or too sentimental? In that, I am forced to admit he +would be exactly the opposite of his friend Coconnas." + +"Oh, no, he has his moments," said Marguerite, "but this 'alas!' +concerned only myself." + +"What does it mean, then?" + +"It means, dear duchess, that I am terribly afraid I am actually in +love." + +"Really?" + +"On my honor!" + +"Oh! so much the better! What a merry life we can lead!" cried +Henriette. "To love a little is my dream; to love much, is yours. It is +so sweet, dear and learned queen, to rest the mind by the heart, is it +not? and to have the smile after the delirium. Ah, Marguerite, I have a +feeling that we are going to have a glorious year!" + +"Do you think so?" said the queen. "I, on the contrary, do not know how +that may be; I see things through a veil. All these politics occupy me +so much. By the way, do you know if your Annibal is as devoted to my +brother as he seems to be? Find out for me. I must know." + +"He, devoted to anybody or anything! It is easy to see that you do not +know him as I do. If he ever is devoted to anything it will be his +ambition, and that is all. If your brother is a man to make great +promises to him, well, he will be devoted to your brother; but let your +brother, son of France that he is, be careful not to break the promises +he makes him. If he does, my faith, look out for your brother!" + +"Really?" + +"It is just as I say. Truly, Marguerite, there are times when this tiger +whom I have tamed frightens me. The other day I said to him, 'Annibal, +be careful, do not deceive me, for if you do!'--I said it, however, with +my emerald eyes which prompted Ronsard's lines: + + "'_La Duchesse de Nevers,_[11] + _Aux yeux verts,_ + _Qui, sous leur paupière blonde_ + _Lancent sur nous plus d'éclairs_ + _Que ne font vingt Jupiters_ + _Dans les airs_ + _Lorsque la tempête gronde._'" + +"Well?" + +"Well, I supposed he would answer me: 'I deceive you! I! never! etc., +etc.' But do you know what he did answer?" + +"No." + +"Well, judge of the man! 'And you,' he replied, 'if you deceive me, you +take care too, for, princess that you are'--and as he said this he +threatened me not only with his eyes, but with his slender pointed +finger, with its nail cut like a steel lance, which he held before my +nose. At that moment, my poor queen, I confess he looked so fierce that +I trembled, and yet you know I am no coward." + +"He threatened you, Henriette, he dared?" + +"Well, I had threatened him! For that matter he was right. So you see he +is devoted up to a certain point, or rather to a very uncertain point." + +"In that case we shall see," said Marguerite thoughtfully; "I will speak +to La Mole. Have you nothing else to tell me?" + +"Yes; something most interesting for which I came. But, the idea, you +have told me more interesting things still. I have received news." + +"From Rome?" + +"Yes, through a courier from my husband." + +"Ah! the Poland affair?" + +"It is progressing beautifully, and probably in a day or two you will be +rid of your brother of Anjou." + +"So the pope has ratified his election?" + +"Yes, my dear." + +"And you never told me!" cried Marguerite. "Well, quick, quick, the +details." + +"Oh, mercy, I have none except those I have given you. But wait, I will +give you the letter from Monsieur de Nevers. Here it is. Oh, no, those +are some verses from Annibal, atrocious ones too, my poor Marguerite. He +can not write any other kind. But wait, here it is. No, it isn't, that +is a note of my own which I brought for you to have La Mole give him. +Ah! at last, here it is." And Madame de Nevers handed the letter to the +queen. + +Marguerite opened it hastily and read it; but it told nothing more than +she had already learned from her friend. + +"How did you receive this?" continued the queen. + +"From a courier of my husband, who had orders to stop at the Hôtel de +Guise before going to the Louvre, and to deliver this letter to me +before delivering that of the King. I knew the importance my queen would +attach to this news, and I had written to Monsieur de Nevers to act +thus. He obeyed, you see; he is not like that monster of a Coconnas. Now +there is no one in the whole of Paris, except the King, you, and I, who +knows this news; except the man who followed our courier"-- + +"What man?" + +"Oh! the horrid business! Imagine how tired, worn out, and dusty the +wretched messenger was when he arrived! He rode seven days, day and +night, without stopping an instant." + +"But the man you spoke of just now?" + +"Wait a minute. Constantly followed by a wild-looking fellow who had +relays like himself and who rode as far as he did for the four hundred +leagues, the poor courier constantly expected to be shot in his back. +Both reached the Saint Marcel gate at the same time, both galloped down +the Rue Mouffetard, both crossed the city. But at the end of the bridge +of Notre-Dame our courier turned to the right, while the other took the +road to the left by the Place du Châtelet, and sped along the quays by +the side of the Louvre, like an arrow from a bow." + +"Thanks, my good Henriette, thanks!" cried Marguerite. "You are right; +that is very interesting news. By whom was the other courier sent? I +must know. So leave me until this evening. Rue Tizon, is it not? and the +hunt to-morrow. Do take a frisky horse, so that he will run away, and we +can be by ourselves. I will tell you this evening what is necessary for +you to try and find out from your Coconnas." + +"You will not forget my letter?" said the duchess of Nevers smiling. + +"No, no, do not worry; he shall have it, and at once." + +Madame de Nevers left, and Marguerite immediately sent for Henry, who +came to her quickly. She gave him the letter from the Duc de Nevers. + +"Oh! oh!" he exclaimed. + +Then Marguerite told him about the second courier. + +"Yes," said Henry; "I saw him enter the Louvre." + +"Perhaps he was for the queen mother." + +"No, I am sure of that, for I ventured to take my stand in the corridor, +and I saw no one pass." + +"Then," said Marguerite, looking at her husband, "he must be"-- + +"For your brother D'Alençon, must he not?" said Henry. + +"Yes; but how can we be sure?" + +"Could not one of his two gentlemen be sent for?" said Henry, +carelessly, "and through him"-- + +"You are right," said Marguerite, put at her ease at her husband's +suggestion. "I will send for Monsieur de la Mole. Gillonne! Gillonne!" + +The young girl appeared. + +"I must speak at once with Monsieur de la Mole," said the queen. "Try to +find him and bring him here." + +Gillonne disappeared. Henry seated himself before a table on which was a +German book containing engravings by Albert Durer, which he began to +examine with such close attention that when La Mole entered he did not +seem to hear him, and did not even raise his head. + +On his side, the young man, seeing the king with Marguerite, stopped on +the threshold, silent from surprise and pale from anxiety. + +Marguerite went to him. + +"Monsieur de la Mole," said she, "can you tell me who is on guard to-day +at Monsieur d'Alençon's?" + +"Coconnas, madame," said La Mole. + +"Try to find out for me from him if he admitted to his master's room a +man covered with mud, who apparently had a long or hasty ride." + +"Ah, madame, I fear he will not tell me; for several days he has been +very taciturn." + +"Indeed! But by giving him this note, it seems to me that he will owe +you something in exchange." + +"From the duchess! Oh, with this note I will try." + +"Add," said Marguerite, lowering her voice, "that this note will serve +him as a means of gaining entrance this evening to the house you know +about." + +"And I, madame," said La Mole, in a low tone, "what shall be mine?" + +"Give your name. That will be enough." + +"Give me the note, madame," said La Mole, with throbbing heart, "I will +bring back the answer." + +He withdrew. + +"We shall know to-morrow if the duke has been informed of the Poland +affair," said Marguerite calmly, turning to her husband. + +"That Monsieur de la Mole is really a fine servant," said the Béarnais, +with his peculiar smile, "and, by Heaven! I will make his fortune!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX. + +THE DEPARTURE. + + +When on the following day a beautiful sun, red but rayless, as is apt to +be the case on privileged days of winter, rose behind the hills of +Paris, everything had already been awake for two hours in the court of +the Louvre. A magnificent Barbary horse, nervous and spirited, with +limbs like those of a stag, on which the veins crossed one another like +network, pawed the ground, pricked up his ears and snorted, while +waiting for Charles IX. He was less impatient, however, than his master +who, detained by Catharine, had been stopped by her in the hall. She had +said she wished to speak to him on a matter of importance. Both were in +the corridor with the glass windows. Catharine was cold, pale, and quiet +as usual. Charles IX. fretted, bit his nails, and whipped his two +favorite dogs. The latter were covered with cuirasses of mail, so that +the snout of the wild boar should not harm them, and that they might be +able to encounter the terrible animal with impunity. A small scutcheon +with the arms of France had been stitched on their breasts similar to +those on the breasts of the pages, who, more than once, had envied the +privileges of these happy favorites. + +"Pay attention, Charles," said Catharine, "no one but you and I knows as +yet of the expected arrival of these Polonais. But, God forgive me, the +King of Navarre acts as if he knew. In spite of his abjuration, which I +always mistrust, he is in communication with the Huguenots. Have you +noticed how often he has gone out the past few days? He has money, too, +he who has never had any. He buys horses, arms, and on rainy days he +practises fencing from morning until night." + +"Well, my God, mother!" exclaimed Charles IX., impatiently, "do you +think he intends to kill me, or my brother D'Anjou? In that case he will +need a few more lessons, for yesterday I counted eleven buttonholes with +my foil on his doublet, which, however, had only six. And as to my +brother D'Anjou, you know that he fences as well if not better than I +do; at least so people say." + +"Listen, Charles," continued Catharine, "and do not treat lightly what +your mother tells you. The ambassadors will arrive; well, you will see! +As soon as they are in Paris, Henry will do all he can to gain their +attention. He is insinuating, he is crafty; without mentioning his wife +who seconds him, I know not why, and will chat with them, and talk +Latin, Greek, Hungarian, and I know not what, to them! Oh, I tell you, +Charles,--and you know that I am not mistaken,--I tell you that there is +something on foot." + +Just then the clock struck and Charles IX. stopped listening to his +mother to count the strokes. + +"Good heavens! seven o'clock!" he exclaimed, "one hour before we get +off, that will make it eight; one hour to reach the meeting-place, and +to start again--we shall not be able to begin hunting before nine +o'clock. Really, mother, you make me lose a great deal of time! Down, +Risquetout! great Heavens! down, I say, you brigand!" + +And a vigorous blow of the bloody whip on the mastiff's back brought a +howl of real pain from the poor beast, thoroughly astonished at +receiving punishment in exchange for a caress. + +"Charles!" said Catharine, "listen to me, in God's name, and do not +leave to chance your fortune and that of France! The hunt, the hunt, the +hunt, you cry; why, you will have time enough to hunt when your work of +king is settled." + +"Come now, mother!" exclaimed Charles, pale with impatience, "explain +quickly, for you bother me to death. Really, there are days when I +cannot comprehend you." + +He stopped beating his whip against his boot. + +Catharine thought that the time had come and that it should not be +passed by. + +"My son," said she, "we have proof that De Mouy has returned to Paris. +Monsieur de Maurevel, whom you are well acquainted with, has seen him. +This can be only for the King of Navarre. That is enough, I trust, for +us to suspect him more than ever." + +"Come, there you go again after my poor Henriot! You want me to have him +killed; do you not?" + +"Oh, no." + +"Exiled? But why can you not see that if he were exiled he would be much +more dangerous than he will ever be here, in the Louvre, under our eyes, +where he can do nothing without our knowing it at once?" + +"Therefore I do not wish him exiled." + +"What do you want, then? Tell me quickly!" + +"I want him to be held in safe keeping while these Polonais are here; +in the Bastille, for instance." + +"Ah! my faith, no!" cried Charles IX. "We are going to hunt the boar +this morning and Henry is one of my best men. Without him the fun would +be spoiled. By Heaven, mother! really, you do nothing but vex me." + +"Why, my dear son, I did not say this morning. The ambassadors do not +arrive until to-morrow or the day after. Arrest him after your hunt, +this evening--to-night"-- + +"That is a different matter. Well, we will talk about it later and see. +After the hunt I will not refuse. Adieu! Come here, Risquetout! Is it +your turn to sulk now?" + +"Charles," said Catharine, laying a detaining hand on his arm at the +risk of a fresh explosion which might result from this new delay, "I +think that the best thing to do is to sign the order for arrest at once, +even though it is not to be carried out until this evening or to-night." + +"Sign, write an order, look up a seal for the parchment when they are +waiting for me to go hunting, I, who never keep anyone waiting! The +devil take the thought!" + +"Why, no, I love you too dearly to delay you. I arranged everything +beforehand; step in here and see!" + +And Catharine, as agile as if she were only twenty years old, pushed +open a door of her cabinet, and pointed to an ink-stand, pen, parchment, +the seal, and a lighted candle. + +The king took the parchment and read it through hastily. + +"_Order, etc., etc., to arrest and conduct to the Bastille our brother +Henry of Navarre._" + +"Good, that is done!" he exclaimed, signing hurriedly. "Adieu, mother." + +He hastened from the room, followed by his dogs, greatly pleased to have +gotten rid of Catharine so easily. + +Charles IX. had been waited for with impatience, and as his promptness +in hunting matters was well known, every one wondered at the delay. So +when he finally appeared, the hunters welcomed him by shouts of "Long +live the King!" the outriders by a flourish of trumpets, the horses by +neighing, the dogs by barking. All this noise and hubbub brought a flush +to his pale cheeks, his heart swelled, and for a moment Charles was +young and happy. + +The King scarcely took the time to salute the brilliant company gathered +in the court-yard. He nodded to the Duc d'Alençon, waved his hand to his +sister Marguerite, passed Henry without apparently seeing him, and +sprang upon the fiery Barbary horse, which started off at once. But +after curvetting around three or four times, he realized what sort of a +rider he had to deal with and quieted down. The trumpets again sounded, +and the King left the Louvre followed by the Duc d'Alençon, the King of +Navarre, Marguerite, Madame de Nevers, Madame de Sauve, Tavannes, and +the principal courtiers. + +It goes without saying that La Mole and Coconnas were of the number. + +As to the Duc d'Anjou, he had been at the siege of La Rochelle for three +months. + +While waiting for the King, Henry had spoken to his wife, who in +returning his greeting had whispered, + +"The courier from Rome was admitted by Monsieur de Coconnas himself to +the chamber of the Duc d'Alençon a quarter of an hour before the +messenger from the Duc de Nevers saw the King." + +"Then he knows all," said Henry. + +"He must know all," replied Marguerite; "but keep your eyes on him and +see how, in spite of his usual dissimulation, his eyes shine." + +"_Ventre saint gris!_" murmured the Béarnais. "I should think they +would; he hunts triple game to-day: France, Poland, and Navarre, without +counting the wild boar." + +He bowed to his wife, returned to his place, and calling one of his +servants whose ancestors had been in the service of his father for more +than a century, and whom he employed as ordinary messenger in his love +affairs: + +"Orthon," said he, "take this key to the cousin of Madame de Sauve, who +you know lives with his mistress at the corner of the Rue des Quatre +Fils. Say to him that his cousin desires to speak to him this evening; +that he is to enter my room, and, in case I am not there, to wait for +me. If I am late, he is to lie down on my bed." + +"Is there an answer, sire?" + +"No, except to tell me if you find him. The key is for him alone, you +understand?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"Wait; do not start now, plague you! Before leaving Paris I will call +you to tighten my saddle-girths; in that way you will naturally have to +lag behind, and you can carry out your commission and join us at +Bondy." + +The servant made a sign of obedience and rode away. + +They set out by the Rue Saint Honoré, through the Rue Saint Denis, and +the Faubourg. At the Rue Saint Laurent the saddle-girths of the King of +Navarre became loose. Orthon rode up to him, and everything happened as +had been agreed on between him and his master, who followed the royal +procession along the Rue des Récollets, where his faithful servant +sought the Rue du Temple. + +When Henry overtook the King, Charles was engaged in such an interesting +conversation with the Duc d'Alençon, on the subject of the weather, the +age of the wild boar which was a recluse, and as to where he had made +his lair, that he did not notice, or pretended he did not notice, that +Henry had lagged behind a moment. + +In the meantime Marguerite had watched each countenance from afar and +thought she perceived a certain embarrassment in the eyes of her brother +every time she looked at him. Madame de Nevers was abandoning herself to +mad gayety, for Coconnas, supremely happy that day, was making +numberless jokes near her to make the ladies laugh. + +As to La Mole he had already twice found an opportunity to kiss +Marguerite's white scarf with gold fringe, without the act, which was +carried out with the skill usual to lovers, having been seen by more +than three or four. + +About a quarter-past eight they reached Bondy. The first thought of +Charles IX. was to find out if the wild boar had held out. + +The boar was in his lair, and the outrider who had turned him aside +answered for him. A breakfast was ready. The King drank a glass of +Hungarian wine. Charles IX. invited the ladies to take seats at table, +and in his impatience to pass away the time set out to visit the kennels +and the roosts, giving orders not to unsaddle his horse, as he said he +had never had a better or a stronger mount. + +While the King was taking this stroll, the Duc de Guise arrived. He was +armed for war rather than for hunting, and was accompanied by twenty or +thirty gentlemen equipped in like manner. He asked at once for the King, +joined him, and returned talking with him. + +At exactly nine o'clock the King himself gave the signal to start, and +each one mounted and set out to the meet. During the ride Henry found +another opportunity to be near his wife. + +"Well," said he, "do you know anything new?" + +"No," replied Marguerite, "unless it is that my brother Charles looks +at you strangely." + +"I have noticed it," said Henry. + +"Have you taken precautions?" + +"I have on a coat of mail, and at my side a good Spanish hunting knife, +as sharp as a razor, and as pointed as a needle. I could pierce pistols +with it." + +"In that case," said Marguerite, "God protect you!" + +The outrider in charge of the hunt made a sign. They had reached the +lair. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX. + +MAUREVEL. + + +While all this careless, light-hearted youth, apparently so at least, +was scattering like a gilded whirlwind along the road to Bondy, +Catharine, still rolling up the precious parchment to which King Charles +had just affixed his signature, admitted into her room a man to whom, a +few days before, her captain of the guards had carried a letter, +addressed to Rue de la Cerisaie, near the Arsenal. + +A broad silk band like a badge of mourning hid one of the man's eyes, +showing only the other eye, two prominent cheek-bones, and the curve of +a vulture's nose, while a grayish beard covered the lower part of his +face. He wore a long thick cloak, beneath which one might have imagined +a whole arsenal. Besides this, although it was not the custom of those +called to court, he wore at his side a long campaign sword, broad, and +with a double blade. One of his hands was hidden beneath his cloak, and +never left the handle of a long dagger. + +"Ah! you here, monsieur?" said the queen seating herself; "you know that +I promised you after Saint Bartholomew, when you rendered us such signal +service, not to let you be idle. The opportunity has arisen, or rather I +have made it. Thank me, therefore." + +"Madame, I humbly thank your majesty," replied the man with the black +bandage, in a reserved voice at once low and insolent. + +"A fine opportunity; you will not find another such in your whole life. +Make the most of it, therefore." + +"I am waiting, madame, only after the preamble, I fear"-- + +"That the commission may not be much? Are not those who wish to advance +fond of such commissions? The one of which I speak would be envied by +the Tavannes and even by the De Guises." + +"Ah! madame," said the man, "believe me, I am at your majesty's orders, +whatever they may be." + +"In that case, read," said Catharine. + +She handed him the parchment. The man read it and grew pale. + +"What!" he exclaimed, "an order to arrest the King of Navarre!" + +"Well! what is there strange in that?" + +"But a king, madame! Really, I think--I fear I am not of sufficiently +high rank." + +"My confidence makes you the first gentleman of my court, Monsieur de +Maurevel," said Catharine. + +"I thank your majesty," said the assassin so moved that he seemed to +hesitate. + +"You will obey, then?" + +"If your majesty orders it, is it not my duty?" + +"Yes, I order it." + +"Then I will obey." + +"How shall you go to work?" + +"Why, madame, I do not know, I should greatly like to be guided by your +majesty." + +"You fear noise?" + +"I admit it." + +"Take a dozen sure men, if necessary." + +"I understand, of course, that your majesty will permit me to do the +best I can for myself, and I am grateful to you for this; but where +shall I arrest the King of Navarre?" + +"Where would it best please you to arrest him?" + +"In some place in which I should be warranted in doing so, if possible, +even by his Majesty." + +"Yes, I understand, in some royal palace; what do you say to the Louvre, +for instance?" + +"Oh, if your majesty would permit it, that would be a great favor." + +"You will arrest him, then, in the Louvre." + +"In what part?" + +"In his own room." + +Maurevel bowed. + +"When, madame?" + +"This evening, or rather to-night." + +"Very well, madame. Now, will your majesty deign to inform me on one +point?" + +"On what point?" + +"About the respect due to his position." + +"Respect! position!" said Catharine, "why, then, you do not know, +monsieur, that the King of France owes respect to no one in his kingdom, +whoever he may be, recognizing no position as equal to his own?" + +Maurevel bowed a second time. + +"I insist on this point, however, madame, if your majesty will allow +me." + +"I will, monsieur." + +"If the king contests the authenticity of the order, which is not +probable, but"-- + +"On the contrary, monsieur, he is sure to do so." + +"He will contest it?" + +"Without a doubt." + +"And consequently he will refuse to obey it?" + +"I fear so." + +"And he will resist?" + +"Probably." + +"Ah! the devil!" said Maurevel; "and in that case"-- + +"In what case?" said Catharine, not moving her eyes from him. + +"Why, in case he resists, what is to be done?" + +"What do you do when you are given an order from the King, that is, when +you represent the King, and when there is any resistance, Monsieur de +Maurevel?" + +"Why, madame," said the sbirro, "when I am honored with such an order, +and when this order refers to a simple gentleman, I kill him." + +"I told you, monsieur," said Catharine, "and I scarcely think that +sufficient time has elapsed for you to have forgotten it, that the King +of France recognizes no position in his kingdom, and that after him the +greatest are simple gentlemen." + +Maurevel grew pale, for he was beginning to comprehend. + +"Oh! oh!" he cried, "kill the King of Navarre?" + +"Why, who is speaking of killing him? Where is the order to kill him? +The King wishes him taken to the Bastille, and the order contains +nothing more. If he lets himself be arrested, very good; but as he will +not let himself be arrested, as he will resist, as he will endeavor to +kill you"-- + +Maurevel grew paler. + +"You will defend yourself," continued Catharine. "One cannot ask a brave +man like you to let himself be killed without defending himself; and in +defending yourself, what can you expect? You must let come what may. You +understand me, do you not?" + +"Yes, madame; and yet"-- + +"Come, do you want me to write _dead or alive_ after the words _order to +arrest_?" + +"I confess, madame, that that would do away with my scruples." + +"Well, it must be done, of course, since you do not think the order can +be carried out without it." + +And Catharine shrugged her shoulders, unrolled the parchment with one +hand, and wrote with the other: "_dead or alive_." + +"Now," said she, "do you consider the order all right?" + +"Yes, madame," replied Maurevel; "but I beg your majesty to leave the +carrying out of the entire affair to me." + +"What have I said that will interfere with it?" + +"Your majesty told me to take a dozen men." + +"Yes, to make sure"-- + +"Well, I ask permission to take only six." + +"Why so?" + +"Because, madame, if anything happens to the prince, as it probably +will, it would be easy to excuse six men for having been afraid of +losing the prisoner, but no one would excuse a dozen guards for not +having let half of their number be killed before laying hands on +royalty." + +"Fine royalty, in truth, which has no kingdom." + +"Madame," said Maurevel, "it is not the kingdom which makes the king: it +is birth." + +"Very well," said Catharine; "do as you please. Only I must warn you +that I do not wish you to leave the Louvre." + +"But, madame, to get my men together?" + +"Have you not a sort of sergeant whom you can charge with this duty?" + +"I have my lackey, who not only is a faithful fellow, but who has even +occasionally aided me in this sort of thing." + +"Send for him, and confer with him. You know the chamber hung with the +King's arms, do you not? Well, your breakfast shall be served there; and +from there you shall give your orders. The place will aid you to collect +your wits in case they are scattered. Then when my son returns from the +hunt, you are to go into my oratory, and wait until the time comes." + +"But how are we to get into the room? Probably the king suspects +something, and he will shut himself up in it." + +"I have a duplicate key to every door," said Catharine, "and the bolts +have been removed from Henry's room. Adieu, Monsieur de Maurevel, for a +while. I will have you taken to the King's armory. Ah! by the way! +remember that the order of a King must be carried out before anything +else. No excuse is admissible; a defeat, even a failure, would +compromise the honor of the King. It is a serious matter." + +And Catharine, without giving Maurevel time to answer, called Monsieur +de Nancey, the captain of the guards, and ordered him to conduct +Maurevel to the king's armory. + +"My God!" exclaimed Maurevel as he followed his guide, "I have risen to +the hierarchy of assassination; from a simple gentleman to a captain, +from a captain to an admiral, from an admiral to a king without a crown. +Who knows if I shall not some day be a king with a crown!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI. + +THE HUNT. + + +The outrider who had turned aside the boar and who had told the King +that the animal had not left the place was not mistaken. Scarcely were +the bloodhounds put on the trail before it plunged into the thickets, +and from a cluster of thorn bushes drove out the boar which the outrider +had recognized by its track. It was a recluse; that is, the strangest +kind of animal. + +It started straight ahead and crossed the road fifty feet from the King, +followed only by the bloodhound which had driven it back. The first +relay of dogs was at once let loose, twenty in number, which sprang +after it. + +Hunting was Charles' chief passion. Scarcely had the animal crossed the +road before he started after it, followed by the Duc d'Alençon and +Henry, to whom a sign had indicated that he must not leave Charles. + +The rest of the hunters followed the King. + +At the time of which we are writing, the royal forests were far from +being what they are to-day, great parks intersected by carriage roads. +Then traffic was almost wanting. Kings had not yet conceived the idea of +being merchants, and of dividing their woods into fellings, copses, and +forests. The trees, planted, not by learned foresters, but by the hand +of God, who threw the grain to the will of the winds, were not arranged +in quincunxes, but grew as they pleased, as they do to-day in any +virginal forest of America. In short, a forest in those days was a den +of the wild boar, the stag, the wolf, and robbers; and a dozen paths +starting from one point starred that of Bondy, surrounded by a circular +road as the circle of a wheel surrounds its fellies. + +To carry the comparison further, the nave would not be a bad +representation of the single point where the parties meet in the centre +of the wood, where the wandering hunters rally to start out again +towards the point where the lost animal again appears. + +At the end of a quarter of an hour there happened what always happens in +such cases. Insurmountable obstacles rose in the path of the hunters, +the cries of the dogs were lost in the distance, and the King returned +to the meeting-place cursing and swearing as was his habit. + +"Well, D'Alençon! Well, Henriot!" said he, "there you are, by Heaven, as +calm and unruffled as nuns following their abbess. That is not hunting. +Why, D'Alençon, you look as though you had just stepped out of a +band-box, and you are so saturated with perfumery that if you were to +pass between the boar and my dogs, you might put them off the scent. And +you, Henry, where is your spear, your musket? Let us see!" + +"Sire," said Henry, "of what use is a musket? I know that your Majesty +likes to shoot the beast when the dogs have caught it. As to a spear, I +am clumsy enough with this weapon, which is not much used among our +mountains, where we hunt the bear with a simple dagger." + +"By Heavens, Henry, when you return to your Pyrenees you will have to +send me a whole cartload of bears. It must be a pretty hunt that is +carried on at such close quarters with an animal which might strangle +us. Listen, I think I hear the dogs. No, I am mistaken." The King took +his horn and blew a blast; several horns answered him. Suddenly an +outrider appeared who blew another blast. + +"The boar! the boar!" cried the King. + +He galloped off, followed by the rest of the hunters who had rallied +round him. + +The outrider was not mistaken. As the King advanced they began to hear +the barking of the pack, which consisted of more than sixty dogs, for +one after another they had let loose all the relays placed at the points +the boar had already passed. The King saw the boar again, and taking +advantage of a clump of high trees, he rushed after him, blowing his +horn with all his might. + +For some time the princes followed him. But the King had such a strong +horse and was so carried away by his ardor, and he rode over such rough +roads and through such thick underbrush, that at first the ladies, then +the Duc de Guise and his gentlemen, and finally the two princes, were +forced to abandon him. Tavannes held out for a time longer, but at +length he too gave up. + +Except Charles and a few outriders who, excited over a promised reward, +would not leave the King, everyone had gathered about the open space in +the centre of the wood. The two princes were together on a narrow path, +the Duc de Guise and his gentlemen had halted a hundred feet from them. +Further on were the ladies. + +"Does it not really seem," said the Duc d'Alençon to Henry, indicating +by a wink the Duc de Guise, "that that man with his escort sheathed in +steel is the real king? Poor princes that we are, he does not even honor +us by a glance." + +"Why should he treat us better than we treat our own relatives?" replied +Henry. "Why, brother, are not you and I prisoners at the court of +France, hostages from our party?" + +Duc François started at these words, and looked at Henry as if to +provoke further explanation; but Henry had said more than he usually did +and was silent. + +"What do you mean, Henry?" asked the Duc François, visibly annoyed that +his brother-in-law by stopping had left him to open the conversation. + +"I say, brother," said Henry, "that all these men who are so well armed, +whose duty seems to be not to lose sight of us, look exactly like guards +preventing two people from running away." + +"Running away? why? how?" asked D'Alençon, admirably successful in his +pretended surprise and innocence. + +"You have a magnificent mount, François," said Henry, following out his +thoughts, while apparently changing the conversation. "I am sure he +could make seven leagues in an hour, and twenty between now and noon. It +is a fine day. And one feels like saying good-by. See the beautiful +cross-road. Does it not tempt you, François? As to me, my spurs burn +me." + +François did not reply. But he first turned red and then white. Then he +bent his head, as if listening for sounds from the hunters. + +"The news from Poland is having its effect," said Henry, "and my dear +brother-in-law has his plans. He would like me to escape, but I shall +not do so by myself." + +Scarcely had this thought passed through his mind before several new +converts, who had come to court during the past two or three months, +galloped up and smiled pleasantly on the two princes. The Duc d'Alençon, +provoked by Henry's remarks, had but one word to say, one gesture to +make, and it was evident that thirty or forty horsemen, who at that +moment gathered around them as though to oppose the troop belonging to +Monsieur de Guise, favored his flight; but he turned aside his head, +and, raising his horn to his lips, he sounded the rally. But the +newcomers, as if they thought that the hesitation on the part of the Duc +d'Alençon was due to the presence of the followers of the De Guises, had +by degrees glided among them and the two princes, and had drawn +themselves up in echelons with a strategic skill which showed the usual +military disposition. In fact, to reach the Duc d'Alençon and the King +of Navarre it would have been necessary to pass through this company, +while, as far as eye could reach, a perfectly free road stretched out +before the brothers. + +Suddenly from among the trees, ten feet from the King of Navarre, +another gentleman appeared, as yet unperceived by the two princes. Henry +was trying to think who he was, when the gentleman raised his hat and +Henry recognized him as the Vicomte de Turenne, one of the leaders of +the Protestant party, who was supposed to be in Poitou. + +The vicomte even ventured to make a sign which clearly meant, + +"Will you come?" + +But having consulted the impassable face and dull eye of the Duc +d'Alençon, Henry turned his head two or three times over his shoulder as +if something was the matter with his neck or doublet. + +This was a refusal. The vicomte understood it, put both spurs to his +horse and disappeared in the thicket. At that moment the pack was heard +approaching, then they saw the boar followed by the dogs cross the end +of the path where they were all gathered; then Charles IX., like an +infernal hunter, hatless, the horn at his mouth blowing enough to burst +his lungs; three or four outriders followed. Tavannes had disappeared. + +"The King!" cried the Duc d'Alençon, and he rode after him. + +Reassured by the presence of his good friends, Henry signed to them not +to leave, and advanced towards the ladies. + +"Well!" said Marguerite, taking a few steps towards him. + +"Well, madame," said Henry, "we are hunting the wild boar." + +"Is that all?" + +"Yes, the wind has changed since morning; but I believe you predicted +this." + +"These changes of the wind are bad for hunting, are they not, monsieur?" +asked Marguerite. + +"Yes," said Henry; "they sometimes upset all plans, which have to be +made over again." Just then the barking of the dogs began to be heard as +they rapidly approached, and a sort of noisy dust warned the hunters to +be on their guard. Each one raised his head and listened. + +Almost immediately the boar appeared again, but instead of returning to +the woods, he followed the road that led directly to the open space +where were the ladies, the gentlemen paying court to them, and the +hunters who had given up the chase. + +Behind the animal came thirty or forty great dogs, panting; then, twenty +feet behind them, King Charles without hat or cloak, his clothes torn by +the thorns, his face and hands covered with blood. + +One or two outriders were with him. + +The King stopped blowing his horn only to urge on his dogs, and stopped +urging on his dogs only to return to his horn. He saw no one. Had his +horse stumbled, he might have cried out as did Richard III.: "My kingdom +for a horse!" But the horse seemed as eager as his master. His feet did +not touch the ground, and his nostrils breathed forth fire. Boar, dogs, +and King passed like a dream. + +"Halloo! halloo!" cried the King as he went by, raising the horn to his +bloody lips. + +A few feet behind him came the Duc d'Alençon and two outriders. But the +horses of the others had given out or else they were lost. + +Everyone started after the King, for it was evident that the boar would +soon be taken. + +In fact, at the end of about ten minutes the animal left the path it had +been following, and sprang into the bushes; but reaching an open space, +it ran to a rock and faced the dogs. + +At the shouts from Charles, who had followed it, everyone drew near. + +They arrived at an interesting point in the chase. The boar seemed +determined to make a desperate defence. The dogs, excited by a run of +more than three hours, rushed on it with a fury which increased the +shouts and the oaths of the King. + +All the hunters formed a circle, the King somewhat in advance, behind +him the Duc d'Alençon armed with a musket, and Henry, who had nothing +but his simple hunting knife. + +The Duc d'Alençon unfastened his musket and lighted the match. Henry +moved his knife in its sheath. + +As to the Duc de Guise, disdainful of all the details of hunting, he +stood somewhat apart from the others with his gentlemen. The women, +gathered together in a group, formed a counterpart to that of the duke. + +Everyone who was anything of a hunter stood with eyes fixed on the +animal in anxious expectation. + +To one side an outrider was endeavoring to restrain the King's two +mastiffs, which, encased in their coats of mail, were waiting to take +the boar by the ears, howling and jumping about in such a manner that +every instant one might think they would burst their chains. + +The boar made a wonderful resistance. Attacked at once by forty or more +dogs, which enveloped it like a roaring tide, which covered it by their +motley carpet, which on all sides was striving to reach its skin, +wrinkled with bristles, at each blow of its snout it hurled a dog ten +feet in the air. The dogs fell back, torn to pieces, and, with entrails +dragging, at once returned to the fray. Charles, with hair on end, +bloodshot eyes, and inflated nostrils, leaned over the neck of his +dripping horse shouting furious "halloos!" + +In less than ten minutes twenty dogs were out of the fight. + +"The mastiffs!" cried Charles; "the mastiffs!" + +At this shout the outrider opened the carbine-swivels of the leashes, +and the two bloodhounds rushed into the midst of the carnage, +overturning everything, scattering everything, making a way with their +coats of mail to the animal, which they seized by the ear. + +The boar, knowing that it was caught, clinched its teeth both from rage +and pain. + +"Bravo, Duredent! Bravo, Risquetout!" cried Charles. "Courage, dogs! A +spear! a spear!" + +"Do you not want my musket?" said the Duc d'Alençon. + +"No," cried the King, "no; one cannot feel a bullet when he shoots; +there is no fun in it; but one can feel a spear. A spear! a spear!" + +They handed the King a hunting spear hardened by fire and armed with a +steel point. + +"Take care, brother!" cried Marguerite. + +"Come! come!" cried the Duchesse de Nevers. "Do not miss, sire. Give the +beast a good stab!" + +"Be easy, duchess!" said Charles. + +Couching his lance, he darted at the boar which, held by the two +bloodhounds, could not escape the blow. But at sight of the shining +lance it turned to one side, and the weapon, instead of sinking into its +breast, glided over its shoulder and blunted itself against the rock to +which the animal had run. + +"A thousand devils!" cried the King. "I have missed him. A spear! a +spear!" + +And bending back, as horsemen do when they are going to take a fence, he +hurled his useless lance from him. + +An outrider advanced and offered him another. + +But at that moment, as though it foresaw the fate which awaited it, and +which it wished to resist, by a violent effort the boar snatched its +torn ears from the teeth of the bloodhounds, and with eyes bloody, +protruding, hideous, its breath burning like the heat from a furnace, +with chattering teeth and lowered head it sprang at the King's horse. +Charles was too good a hunter not to have foreseen this. He turned his +horse, which began to rear, but he had miscalculated the pressure, and +the horse, too tightly reined in, or perhaps giving way to his fright, +fell over backwards. The spectators gave a terrible cry: the horse had +fallen, and the King's leg was under him. + +"Your hand, sire, give me your hand," said Henry. + +The King let go his horse's bridle, seized the saddle with his left +hand, and tried to draw out his hunting knife with his right; but the +knife, pressed into his belt by the weight of his body, would not come +from its sheath. + +"The boar! the boar!" cried Charles; "it is on me, D'Alençon! on me!" + +The horse, recovering himself as if he understood his master's danger, +stretched his muscles, and had already succeeded in getting up on its +three legs, when, at the cry from his brother, Henry saw the Duc +François grow frightfully pale and raise the musket to his shoulder, +but, instead of striking the boar, which was but two feet from the King, +the ball broke the knee of the horse, which fell down again, his nose +touching the ground. At that instant the boar, with its snout, tore +Charles's boot. + +"Oh!" murmured D'Alençon with ashy lips, "I suppose that the Duc d'Anjou +is King of France, and that I am King of Poland." + +The boar was about to attack Charles's leg, when suddenly the latter +felt someone raise his arm; then he saw the flash of a sharp-pointed +blade which was driven into the shoulder of the boar and disappeared up +to its guard, while a hand gloved in steel turned aside the head already +poked under his clothes. + +As the horse had risen, Charles had succeeded in freeing his leg, and +now raising himself heavily, he saw that he was dripping with blood, +whereupon he became as pale as a corpse. + +"Sire," said Henry, who still knelt holding the boar pierced to the +heart, "sire, it is nothing, I turned aside the teeth, and your Majesty +is not hurt." + +Then he rose, let go the knife, and the boar fell back pouring forth +more blood from its mouth than from its wound. + +Charles, surrounded by a breathless crowd, assailed by cries of terror +which would have dashed the greatest courage, was for a moment ready to +fall on the dying animal. But he recovered himself and, turning toward +the King of Navarre, he pressed his hand with a look in which shone the +first spark of feeling that had been roused in his heart for twenty-four +years. + +"Thank you, Henriot!" said he. + +"My poor brother!" cried D'Alençon, approaching Charles. + +"Ah! it is you, D'Alençon, is it?" said the King. "Well, famous marksman +that you are, what became of your ball?" + +"It must have flattened itself against the boar," said the duke. + +"Well! my God!" exclaimed Henry, with admirably assumed surprise; "you +see, François, your bullet has broken the leg of his Majesty's horse. +That is strange!" + +"What!" said the King; "is that true?" + +"It is possible," said the duke terrified; "my hand shook so!" + +"The fact is that for a clever marksman that was a strange thing to do, +François!" said Charles frowning. "A second time, Henriot, I thank you!" + +"Gentlemen," continued the King, "let us return to Paris; I have had +enough of this." + +Marguerite came up to congratulate Henry. + +"Yes, indeed, Margot," said Charles, "congratulate him, and sincerely +too, for without him the King of France would be Henry III." + +"Alas, madame," said the Béarnais, "Monsieur le Duc d'Anjou, who is +already my enemy, will be angrier than ever at me. But what can you +expect? One does what one can. Ask Monsieur d'Alençon." + +And bowing, he drew his knife from the wild boar's body and dug it two +or three times into the earth to wipe off the blood. + + + + +PART II. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII. + +FRATERNITY. + + +In saving the life of Charles, Henry had done more than save the life of +a man,--he had prevented three kingdoms from changing sovereigns. + +Had Charles IX. been killed, the Duc d'Anjou would have become King of +France, and the Duc d'Alençon in all probability would have been King of +Poland. As to Navarre, as Monsieur le Duc d'Anjou was the lover of +Madame de Condé, its crown would probably have paid to the husband the +complacency of his wife. Now in all this no good would have come to +Henry. He would have changed masters, that would have been all. Instead +of Charles IX. who tolerated him, he would have seen the Duc d'Anjou on +the throne of France, and being of one heart and mind with his mother +Catharine, the latter had sworn that he should die, and he would not +have failed to keep his oath. All these thoughts entered his mind when +the wild boar sprang at Charles IX., and we know that the result of his +rapid thinking was that his own life was attached to that of Charles IX. + +Charles IX. had been saved by an act of devotion, the motive of which +the King could not fathom. But Marguerite had understood, and she had +admired that strange courage of Henry which, like flashes of lightning, +shone only in a storm. + +Unfortunately it was not all to have escaped the kingdom of the Duc +d'Anjou. Henry had to make himself king. He had to dispute Navarre with +the Duc d'Alençon and with the Prince of Condé; above all he had to +leave the court where one walked only between two precipices, and go +away protected by a son of France. + +As he returned from Bondy Henry pondered deeply on the situation. On +arriving at the Louvre his plan was formed. Without removing his +riding-boots, just as he was, covered with dust and blood, he betook +himself to the apartments of the Duc d'Alençon, whom he found striding +up and down in great agitation. + +On perceiving him the prince gave a start of surprise. + +"Yes," said Henry, taking him by both hands; "yes, I understand, my good +brother, you are angry because I was the first to call the King's +attention to the fact that your ball struck the leg of his horse instead +of the boar, as you intended it should. But what can you expect? I could +not prevent an exclamation of surprise. Besides, the King would have +noticed it, would he not?" + +"No doubt, no doubt," murmured D'Alençon. "And yet I can think of it +only as an evil intention on your part to denounce me as you did, and +which, as you yourself saw, had no result except to make my brother +Charles suspect me, and to make hard feeling between us." + +"We will return to this in a few moments. As to my good or evil +intentions regarding you, I have come to you on purpose that you may +judge them." + +"Very good!" said D'Alençon with his customary reserve. "Speak, Henry, I +am listening." + +"When I have spoken, François, you will readily see what my intentions +are, for the confidence I am going to place in you does away with all +reserve and prudence. And when I have told you, you will be able to ruin +me by a single word!" + +"What is it?" said François, beginning to be anxious. + +"And yet," continued Henry, "I have hesitated a long time to speak to +you of the thing which brings me here, especially after the way in which +you turned a deaf ear to-day." + +"Really," said François, growing pale, "I do not know what you mean, +Henry." + +"Brother, your interests are too dear to me not to tell you that the +Huguenots have made advances to me." + +"Advances!" said D'Alençon. "What advances?" + +"One of them, Monsieur de Mouy of Saint Phal, the son of the brave De +Mouy, assassinated by Maurevel, you know"-- + +"Yes." + +"Well, he came at the risk of his life to show me that I was in +captivity." + +"Ah! indeed! and what did you say to him?" + +"Brother, you know that I love Charles dearly. He has saved my life, +and the queen mother has been like a real mother to me. So I refused all +the offers he made me." + +"What were these offers?" + +"The Huguenots want to reconstruct the throne of Navarre, and as in +reality this throne belongs to me by inheritance, they offered it to +me." + +"Yes; and Monsieur de Mouy, instead of the consent he expected to ask +for, has received your relinquishment?" + +"My formal relinquishment--even in writing. But since," continued Henry. + +"You have repented, brother?" interrupted D'Alençon. + +"No, I merely thought I noticed that Monsieur de Mouy had become +discontented with me, and was paying his visits elsewhere." + +"Where?" asked François quickly. + +"I do not know. At the Prince of Condé's perhaps." + +"Yes, that might be," said the duke. + +"Besides," went on Henry, "I have positive knowledge as to the leader he +has chosen." + +François grew pale. + +"But," continued Henry, "the Huguenots are divided among themselves, and +De Mouy, brave and loyal as he is, represents only one-half of the +party. Now this other half, which is not to be scorned, has not given up +the hope of having Henry of Navarre on the throne, who having hesitated +at first may have reflected since." + +"You think this?" + +"Oh, every day I receive proofs of it. The troops which joined us at the +hunt, did you notice of what men it was composed?" + +"Yes, of converted gentlemen." + +"Did you recognize the leader of the troop who signed to me?" + +"Yes, it was the Vicomte de Turenne." + +"Did you know what they wanted of me?" + +"Yes, they proposed to you to escape." + +"Then," said Henry to François, who was growing restless, "there is +evidently a second party which wants something else besides what +Monsieur de Mouy wants." + +"A second party?" + +"Yes, and a very powerful one, I tell you, so that in order to succeed +it is necessary to unite the two--Turenne and De Mouy. The conspiracy +progresses, the troops are ready, the signal alone is waited for. Now in +this supreme situation, which demands prompt solution on my part, I have +come to two decisions between which I am wavering. I have come to submit +these decisions to you as to a friend." + +"Say rather as to a brother." + +"Yes, as to a brother," went on Henry. + +"Speak, then, I am listening." + +"In the first place I ought to explain to you the condition of my mind, +my dear François. No desire, no ambition, no ability. I am an honest +country gentleman, poor, sensual, and timid. The career of conspirator +offers me indignities poorly compensated for even by the certain +prospect of a crown." + +"Ah, brother," said François, "you do wrong. Sad indeed is the position +of a prince whose fortune is limited by the boundary of the paternal +estate or by a man in a career for honors! I do not believe, therefore, +in what you tell me." + +"And yet what I tell you is so true, brother, that if I thought I had a +true friend, I would resign in his favor the power which this party +wishes to give me; but," he added with a sigh, "I have none." + +"Perhaps you have. You probably are mistaken." + +"No, _ventre saint gris_!" said Henry, "except yourself, brother, I see +no one who is attached to me; so that rather than let fail an attempt +which might bring to light some unworthy man, I truly prefer to inform +my brother the King of what is taking place. I will mention no names, I +will designate neither country nor date, but I will foretell the +catastrophe." + +"Great God!" exclaimed D'Alençon unable to repress his terror, "what do +you mean? What! you, you, the sole hope of the party since the death of +the admiral; you, a converted Huguenot, a poor convert, or at least such +you were thought to be, you would raise the knife against your brothers! +Henry, Henry, by doing this, do you know that you would be delivering to +a second Saint Bartholomew all the Calvinists in the kingdom? Do you +know that Catharine is waiting for just such a chance to exterminate all +who have survived?" + +And the duke trembling, his face spotted with red and white blotches, +pressed Henry's hand to beg him to give up this idea which would ruin +him. + +"What!" said Henry, with an expression of perfect good-humor, "do you +think there would be so much trouble, François? With the King's word, +however, it seems to me that I should avoid it." + +"The word of King Charles IX., Henry! Did not the admiral have it? Did +not Téligny have it? Did not you yourself have it? Oh, Henry, I tell you +if you do this, you will ruin us all. Not only them, but all who have +had direct or indirect relations with them." + +Henry seemed to ponder an instant. + +"If I were an important prince at court," said he, "I should act +differently. In your place, for instance, in your place, François, a son +of France, and probable heir to the crown"-- + +François shook his head ironically. + +"In my place," said he, "what would you do?" + +"In your place, brother," replied Henry, "I should place myself at the +head of the movement and direct it. My name and my credit should answer +to my conscience for the life of the rebellious, and I should derive +some benefit first for myself, then for the King, perhaps, from an +enterprise which otherwise might do the greatest injury to France." + +D'Alençon listened to these words with a joy which caused every muscle +of his face to expand. + +"Do you think," said he, "that this method is practicable and that it +would save us all the disasters you foresee?" + +"I think so," said Henry. "The Huguenots love you. Your bearing is +modest, your position both high and interesting, and the kindness you +have always shown to those of the faith will incline them to serve you." + +"But," said D'Alençon, "there is a division in the party. Will those who +want you want me?" + +"I will undertake to bring them together by two means." + +"What means?" + +"First, by the confidence the leaders have in me; then by the fear that +your highness, knowing their names"-- + +"But who will tell me these names?" + +"I, _ventre saint gris_!" + +"You will do that?" + +"Listen, François; as I told you, you are the only one I love at court," +said Henry. "This, no doubt, is because you are persecuted like myself; +and then my wife, too, loves you with an affection which is +unequalled"-- + +François flushed with pleasure. + +"Believe me, brother," continued Henry; "take this thing in hand, reign +in Navarre; and provided you keep a place at your table for me, and a +fine forest in which to hunt, I shall consider myself fortunate." + +"Reign in Navarre!" said the duke; "but if"-- + +"If the Duc d'Anjou is chosen King of Poland; is that it? I will finish +your thought for you." + +François looked at Henry with something like terror. + +"Well, listen, François," continued Henry, "since nothing escapes you. +This is how I reason: If the Duc d'Anjou is chosen King of Poland, and +our brother Charles, God keep him! should happen to die, it is but two +hundred leagues from Pau to Paris, while it is four hundred from Paris +to Cracovie. So you would be here to receive the inheritance by the time +the King of Poland learned it was vacant. Then, if you are satisfied +with me, you could give me the kingdom of Navarre, which would +thenceforth be merely one of the jewels in your crown. In that way I +would accept it. The worst that could happen to you would be that you +would remain king there and bring up a race of kings by living with me +and my family, while here, what are you? a poor persecuted prince, a +poor third son of a king, the slave of two elder brothers, and one whom +a whim may send to the Bastille." + +"Yes, yes," said François; "I know that very well, so well that I do not +see why you should give up this plan you propose to me. Is there no +throb there?" + +And the Duc d'Alençon put his hand on his brother's heart. + +"There are," said Henry, smiling, "burdens too heavy for some hands; +therefore I shall not try to raise this one; fear of fatigue is greater +than the desire of possession." + +"So, Henry, you really renounce it?" + +"I said so to De Mouy and I repeat it to you." + +"But in such cases, my dear brother," said D'Alençon, "one does not say, +one proves." + +Henry breathed like a pugilist who feels his enemy's back bending. + +"I will prove it this evening," said he. "At nine o'clock we shall have +the names of the leaders and the plan of the undertaking. I have already +sent my renunciation to De Mouy." + +François took Henry's hand and pressed it effusively between his own. + +At that moment Catharine entered the Duc d'Alençon's rooms, unannounced, +as was her habit. + +"Together!" said she, smiling; "two good brothers, truly!" + +"I trust so, madame," said Henry, with great coolness, while the Duc +d'Alençon turned white from distress. + +Henry stepped back to leave Catharine free to speak with her son. + +The queen mother drew a magnificent jewel from her bag. + +"This clasp comes from Florence," said she. "I will give it to you for +the belt of your sword." + +Then in a low tone: + +"If to-night you hear any noise in your good brother Henry's room, do +not stir." + +François pressed his mother's hand, and said: + +"Will you allow me to show Henry the beautiful gift you have just given +me?" + +"You may do more. Give it to him in your name and in mine, for I have +ordered a second one just like it." + +"You hear, Henry," said François, "my good mother brings me this jewel +and doubles its value by allowing me to give it to you." + +Henry went into ecstasies over the beauty of the clasp, and was +enthusiastic in his thanks. When his delight had grown calmer: + +"My son," said Catharine, "I feel somewhat indisposed and I am going to +bed; your brother Charles is greatly wearied from his fall and is going +to do the same. So we shall not have supper together this evening, but +each will be served in his own room. Oh, Henry, I forgot to congratulate +you on your bravery and quickness. You saved your king and your brother, +and you shall be rewarded for it." + +"I am already rewarded, madame," replied Henry, bowing. + +"By the feeling that you have done your duty?" replied Catharine. "That +is not enough, and Charles and I will do something to pay the debt we +owe you." + +"Everything that comes to me from you and my good brother will be +welcome, madame." + +Then he bowed and withdrew. + +"Ah! brother François!" thought Henry as he left, "I am sure now of not +leaving alone, and the conspiracy which had a body has found a head and +a heart. Only let us look out for ourselves. Catharine gives me a +present, Catharine promises me a reward. There is some deviltry beneath +it all. I must confer this evening with Marguerite." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII. + +THE GRATITUDE OF KING CHARLES IX. + + +Maurevel had spent a part of the day in the King's armory; but when it +was time for the hunters to return from the chase Catharine sent him +into her oratory with the guards who had joined him. + +Charles IX., informed by his nurse on his arrival that a man had spent +part of the day in his room, was at first very angry that a stranger had +been admitted into his apartments. But his nurse described the man, +saying that he was the same one she herself had been ordered to admit +one evening, and the King realized that it was Maurevel. Then +remembering the order his mother had wrung from him that morning, he +understood everything. + +"Oh, ho!" murmured Charles, "the same day on which he has saved my life. +The time is badly chosen." + +He started to go to his mother, but one thought deterred him. + +"By Heaven! If I mention this to her it will result in a never-ending +discussion. Better for us to act by ourselves. + +"Nurse," said he, "lock every door, and say to Queen Elizabeth[12] that +I am suffering somewhat from the fall I have had, and that I shall sleep +alone to-night." + +The nurse obeyed, and as it was not yet time for the execution of his +plan, Charles sat himself down to compose poetry. It was this occupation +which made the time pass most quickly for the King. Nine o'clock struck +before he thought it was more than seven. He counted the strokes of the +clock one by one, and at the last he rose. + +"The devil!" said he, "it is just time." Taking his hat and cloak, he +left his room by a secret door he had had made in the wall, the +existence of which even Catharine herself was ignorant. + +Charles went directly to Henry's apartments. On leaving the Duc +d'Alençon, the latter had gone to his room to change his clothes and had +left again at once. + +"He probably has decided to take supper with Margot," said the King. "He +was very pleasant with her to-day, at least so it seemed to me." + +He went to the queen's apartments. Marguerite had brought back with her +the Duchesse de Nevers, Coconnas, and La Mole, and was having a supper +of preserves and pastry with them. + +Charles knocked at the hall door, which was opened by Gillonne. But at +sight of the King she was so frightened that she scarcely had sufficient +presence of mind to courtesy, and instead of running to inform her +mistress of the august visit she was to have, she let Charles enter +without other warning than the cry that had escaped her. The King +crossed the antechamber, and guided by the bursts of laughter advanced +towards the dining-room. + +"Poor Henriot!" said he, "he is enjoying himself without a thought of +evil." + +"It is I," said he, raising the portière and showing a smiling face. + +Marguerite gave a terrible cry. Smiling as he was, his face appeared to +her like the face of Medusa. Seated opposite the door, she had +recognized him at once. The two men turned their backs to the King. + +"Your Majesty!" cried the queen, rising in terror. + +The three other guests felt their heads begin to swim; Coconnas alone +retained his self-possession. He rose also, but with such tactful +clumsiness that in doing so he upset the table, and with it the glass, +plate, and candles. Instantly there was complete darkness and the +silence of death. + +"Run," said Coconnas to La Mole; "quick! quick!" + +La Mole did not wait to be told twice. Springing to the side of the +wall, he began groping with his hands for the sleeping-room, that he +might hide in the cabinet that opened out of it and which he knew so +well. But as he stepped across the threshold he ran against a man who +had just entered by the secret corridor. + +"What does all this mean?" asked Charles, in the darkness, in a tone +which was beginning to betray a formidable accent of impatience. "Am I +such a mar-joy that the sight of me causes all this confusion? Come, +Henriot! Henriot! where are you? Answer me." + +"We are saved!" murmured Marguerite, seizing a hand which she took for +that of La Mole. "The King thinks my husband is one of our guests." + +"And I shall let him think so, madame, you may be sure," said Henry, +answering the queen in the same tone. + +"Great God!" cried Marguerite, hastily dropping the hand she held, +which was that of the King of Navarre. + +"Silence!" said Henry. + +"In the name of a thousand devils! why are you whispering in this way?" +cried Charles. "Henry, answer me; where are you?" + +"Here, sire," said the King of Navarre. + +"The devil!" said Coconnas, who was holding the Duchesse de Nevers in a +corner, "the plot thickens." + +"In that case we are doubly lost," said Henriette. + +Coconnas, brave to the point of rashness, had reflected that the candles +would have to be lighted sooner or later, and thinking the sooner the +better, he dropped the hand of Madame de Nevers, picked up a taper from +the midst of the débris, and going to a brazier blew on a piece of coal, +with which he at once made a light. The chamber was again illuminated. +Charles IX. glanced around inquiringly. + +Henry was by the side of his wife, the Duchesse de Nevers was alone in a +corner, while Coconnas stood in the centre of the room, candle-stick in +hand, lighting up the whole scene. + +"Excuse me, brother," said Marguerite, "we were not expecting you." + +"So, as you may have perceived, your Majesty filled us with strange +terror," said Henriette. + +"For my part," said Henry, who had surmised everything, "I think the +fear was so real that in rising I overturned the table." + +Coconnas glanced at the King of Navarre as much as to say: + +"Good! Here is a man who understands at once." + +"What a frightful hubbub!" repeated Charles IX. "Your supper is ruined, +Henriot; come with me and you shall finish it elsewhere; I will carry +you off this evening." + +"What, sire!" said Henry, "your Majesty will do me the honor?" + +"Yes, my Majesty will do you the honor of taking you away from the +Louvre. Lend him to me, Margot, I will bring him back to you to-morrow +morning." + +"Ah, brother," said Marguerite, "you do not need my permission for that; +you are master." + +"Sire," said Henry, "I will get another cloak from my room, and will +return immediately." + +"You do not need it, Henriot; the cloak you have is all right." + +"But, sire," began the Béarnais. + +"In the name of a thousand devils, I tell you not to go to your rooms! +Do you not hear what I say? Come along!" + +"Yes, yes, go!" said Marguerite, suddenly pressing her husband's arm; +for a singular look from Charles had convinced her that something +unusual was going on. + +"Here I am, sire," said Henry. + +Charles looked at Coconnas, who was still carrying out his office of +torch-bearer by lighting the other candles. + +"Who is this gentleman?" asked the King of Henry, eyeing the Piedmontese +from head to foot. "Is he Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Who has told him of La Mole?" asked Marguerite in a low tone. + +"No, sire," replied Henry, "Monsieur de la Mole is not here, I regret to +say. Otherwise I should have the honor of presenting him to your Majesty +at the same time as Monsieur de Coconnas, his friend. They are perfectly +inseparable, and both are in the suite of Monsieur d'Alençon." + +"Ah! ah! our famous marksman!" said Charles. "Good!" Then frowning: + +"Is not this Monsieur de la Mole a Huguenot?" he asked. + +"He is converted, sire, and I will answer for him as for myself." + +"When you answer for any one, Henriot, after what you did to-day, I have +no further right to doubt him. But I should have liked to see this +Monsieur de la Mole. However, I can meet him another time." + +Giving a last glance about the room, Charles embraced Marguerite, took +hold of the arm of the King of Navarre, and led him off. + +At the gate of the Louvre Henry wanted to speak to some one. + +"Come, come! pass out quickly, Henriot," said Charles. "When I tell you +that the air of the Louvre is not good for you this evening, the devil! +you must believe me!" + +"_Ventre saint gris!_" murmured Henry; "and what will De Mouy do all +alone in my room? I trust the air which is not good for me may be no +worse for him!" + +"Ah!" exclaimed the King, when Henry and he had crossed the drawbridge, +"does it suit you, Henry, to have the gentlemen of Monsieur d'Alençon +courting your wife?" + +"How so, sire?" + +"Truly, is not this Monsieur de Coconnas making eyes at Margot?" + +"Who told you that?" + +"Well," said the King, "I heard it." + +"A mere joke, sire; Monsieur de Coconnas does make eyes at some one, but +it is at Madame de Nevers." + +"Ah, bah." + +"I can answer to your Majesty for what I tell you." + +Charles burst into laughter. + +"Well," said he, "let the Duc de Guise come to me again with his gossip, +and I will gently pull his mustache by telling him of the exploits of +his sister-in-law. But after all," said the King, thinking better of it, +"I do not know whether it was Monsieur de Coconnas or Monsieur de la +Mole he referred to." + +"Neither the one more than the other, sire, and I can answer to you for +the feelings of my wife." + +"Good, Henriot, good!" said the King. "I like you better now than the +way you were before. On my honor, you are such a good fellow that I +shall end by being unable to get along without you." + +As he spoke the King gave a peculiar whistle, whereupon four gentlemen +who were waiting for him at the end of the Rue de Beauvais joined him. +The whole party set out towards the middle of the city. + +Ten o'clock struck. + +"Well!" said Marguerite, after the King and Henry had left, "shall we go +back to table?" + +"Mercy, no!" cried the duchess, "I have been too badly frightened. Long +live the little house in the Rue Cloche Percée! No one can enter that +without regularly besieging it, and our good men have the right to use +their swords there. But what are you looking for under the furniture and +in the closets, Monsieur de Coconnas?" + +"I am trying to find my friend La Mole," said the Piedmontese. + +"Look in my room, monsieur," said Marguerite, "there is a certain +closet"-- + +"Very well," said Coconnas, "I will go there." + +He entered the room. + +"Well!" said a voice from the darkness; "where are we?" + +"Oh! by Heaven! we have reached the dessert." + +"And the King of Navarre?" + +"He has seen nothing. He is a perfect husband, and I wish my wife had +one like him. But I fear she never will, even if she marries again." + +"And King Charles?" + +"Ah! the King. That is another thing. He has taken off the husband." + +"Really?" + +"It is as I tell you. Furthermore, he honored me by looking askance at +me when he discovered that I belonged to Monsieur d'Alençon, and cross +when he found out that I was your friend." + +"You think, then, that he has heard me spoken of?" + +"I fear that he has heard nothing very good of you. But that is not the +point. I believe these ladies have a pilgrimage to make to the Rue de +Roi de Sicile, and that we are to take them there." + +"Why, that is impossible! You know that very well." + +"How impossible?" + +"We are on duty at his royal highness's." + +"By Heavens, that is so; I always forget that we are ranked, and that +from the gentlemen we once were we have had the honor to pass into +valets." + +Thereupon the two friends went and told the queen and the duchess the +necessity of their being present at least when Monsieur le Duc retired. + +"Very well," said Madame de Nevers, "we will go by ourselves." + +"Might we know where you are going?" asked Coconnas. + +"Oh! you are too curious!" said the duchess. "_Quære et invenies._" + +The young men bowed and went at once to Monsieur d'Alençon. + +The duke seemed to be waiting for them in his cabinet. + +"Ah! ah!" said he, "you are very late, gentlemen." + +"It is scarcely ten o'clock, monseigneur," said Coconnas. + +The duke drew out his watch. + +"That is true," said he. "And yet every one has gone to sleep in the +Louvre." + +"Yes, monsieur, but we are here at your orders. Must we admit into the +chamber of your highness the gentlemen who are with the King until he +retires?" + +"On the contrary, go into the small reception-room and dismiss every +one." + +The young men obeyed, carried out the order, which surprised no one, +because of the well-known character of the duke, and returned to him. + +"Monseigneur," said Coconnas, "your highness will probably either go to +bed or work, will you not?" + +"No, gentlemen; you may have leave of absence until to-morrow." + +"Well, well," whispered Coconnas into La Mole's ear, "the court is going +to stay up all night, apparently. It will be devilishly pleasant. Let us +have our share of it." + +And both young men descended the stairs four steps at a time, took their +cloaks and their night swords, and hastily left the Louvre after the two +ladies, whom they overtook at the corner of the Rue du Coq Saint Honoré. + +Meanwhile the Duc d'Alençon, with open eyes and ears, locked himself in +his room to await the unexpected events he had been promised. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV. + +MAN PROPOSES BUT GOD DISPOSES. + + +As the duke had said to the young men, the most profound silence +reigned in the Louvre. + +Marguerite and Madame de Nevers had departed for the Rue Tizon. Coconnas +and La Mole had followed them. The King and Henry were knocking about +the city. The Duc d'Alençon was in his room vaguely and anxiously +waiting for the events which the queen mother had predicted. Catharine +had gone to bed, and Madame de Sauve, seated by her, was reading some +Italian stories which greatly amused the good queen. Catharine had not +been in such good humor for a long time. Having done justice to a +collation with her ladies in waiting, having consulted her physician and +arranged the daily accounts of her household, she had ordered prayers +for the success of a certain enterprise, which she said was of great +importance to the happiness of her children. Under certain circumstances +it was Catharine's habit--a habit, for that matter, wholly +Florentine--to have prayers and masses read the object of which was +known only to God and herself. + +Finally she had seen Réné, and had chosen several novelties from among +her rich collection of perfumed bags. + +"Let me know," said Catharine, "if my daughter the Queen of Navarre is +in her rooms; and if she is there, beg her to come to me." + +The page to whom this order was given withdrew, and an instant later he +returned, accompanied by Gillonne. + +"Well!" said the queen mother, "I asked for the mistress, not the +servant." + +"Madame," said Gillonne, "I thought I ought to come myself and tell your +majesty that the Queen of Navarre has gone out with her friend the +Duchesse de Nevers"-- + +"Gone out at this hour!" exclaimed Catharine, frowning; "where can she +have gone?" + +"To a lecture on chemistry," replied Gillonne, "which is to be held in +the Hôtel de Guise, in the pavilion occupied by Madame de Nevers." + +"When will she return?" asked the queen mother. + +"The lecture will last until late into the night," replied Gillonne, "so +that probably her majesty will stay with her friend until to-morrow +morning." + +"The Queen of Navarre is happy," murmured Catharine; "she has friends +and she is queen; she wears a crown, is called your majesty, yet has no +subjects. She is happy indeed." + +After this remark, which made her listeners smile inwardly: + +"Well," murmured Catharine, "since she has gone out--for she has gone, +you say?" + +"Half an hour ago, madame." + +"Everything is for the best; you may go." + +Gillonne bowed and left. + +"Go on with your reading, Charlotte," said the queen. + +Madame de Sauve continued. At the end of ten minutes Catharine +interrupted the story. + +"Ah, by the way," said she, "have the guards dismissed from the +corridor." + +This was the signal for which Maurevel was waiting. The order of the +queen mother was carried out, and Madame de Sauve went on with her +story. She had read for about a quarter of an hour without any +interruption, when a prolonged and terrible scream reached the royal +chamber and made the hair of those present stand on end. + +The scream was followed by the sound of a pistol-shot. + +"What is it?" said Catharine; "why do you stop reading, Carlotta?" + +"Madame," said the young woman, turning pale, "did you not hear?" + +"What?" asked Catharine. + +"That cry." + +"And that pistol-shot?" added the captain of the guards. + +"A cry, a pistol-shot?" asked Catharine; "I heard nothing. Besides, is a +shout or a pistol-shot such a very unusual thing at the Louvre? Read, +read, Carlotta." + +"But listen, madame," said the latter, while Monsieur de Nancey stood +up, his hand on his sword, but not daring to leave without permission +from the queen, "listen, I hear steps, curses." + +"Shall I go and find out about it, madame?" said De Nancey. + +"Not at all, monsieur, stay where you are," said Catharine, raising +herself on one hand to give more emphasis to her order. "Who, then, +would protect me in case of an alarm? It is only some drunken Swiss +fighting." + +The calmness of the queen, contrasted with the terror on the faces of +all present, was so remarkable that, timid as she was, Madame de Sauve +fixed a questioning glance on the queen. + +"Why, madame, I should think they were killing some one." + +"Whom do you think they are killing?" + +"The King of Navarre, madame; the noise comes from the direction of his +apartments." + +"The fool!" murmured the queen, whose lips in spite of her self-control +were beginning to move strangely, for she was muttering a prayer; "the +fool sees her King of Navarre everywhere." + +"My God! my God!" cried Madame de Sauve, falling back in her chair. + +"It is over, it is over," said Catharine. "Captain," she continued, +turning to Monsieur de Nancey, "I hope if there is any scandal in the +palace you will have the guilty ones severely punished to-morrow. Go on +with your reading, Carlotta." And Catharine sank back on her pillow with +a calmness that greatly resembled weakness, for those present noticed +great drops of perspiration rolling down her face. + +Madame de Sauve obeyed this formal order, but her eyes and her voice +were mere machines. Her thoughts wandered to other things which +represented a terrible danger hanging over a loved head. Finally, after +struggling on for several minutes, she became so oppressed between her +feelings and etiquette that her words became unintelligible, the book +fell from her hands, and she fainted. + +Suddenly a louder noise was heard; a quick, heavy step fell on the +corridor, two pistol-shots shook the windows; and Catharine, astonished +at the interminable struggle, rose in terror, erect, pale, with dilating +eyes. As the captain of the guard was about to hurry out, she stopped +him, saying: + +"Let every one remain here. I myself will go and see what is the +matter." + +This is what was taking place, or rather what had taken place. That +morning De Mouy had received the key of Henry's room from the hands of +Orthon. In this key, which was piped, he had noticed a roll of paper. He +drew it out with a pin. It was the password of the Louvre for that +night. + +Besides, Orthon had verbally transmitted to him the words of Henry, +asking De Mouy to come to the king at ten o'clock in the Louvre. + +At half-past nine De Mouy put on a suit of armor, the strength of which +he had already more than once had occasion to test; over this he +buttoned a silk doublet, fastened on his sword, put his pistols in his +belt, and over everything threw the red cloak of La Mole. + +We have seen how, before going back to his rooms, Henry had thought best +to pay a visit to Marguerite, and how he arrived by the secret stairway +just in time to run against La Mole in Marguerite's sleeping-room, and +to appear in the dining-room before the King. It was at that very moment +when, thanks to the password sent by Henry, and above all to the famous +red cloak, that De Mouy passed under the gate of the Louvre. + +The young man went directly to the apartments of the King of Navarre, +imitating as well as he could, as was his habit, the gait of La Mole. He +found Orthon waiting for him in the antechamber. + +"Sire de Mouy," said the mountaineer, "the king has gone out, but he +told me to admit you, and to tell you to wait for him. If he should be +late in returning, he wants you, you know, to lie down on his bed." + +De Mouy entered without asking for further explanation, for what Orthon +had just told him was only the repetition of what he had already heard +that morning. In order to pass away the time he took a pen and ink and, +approaching a fine map of France which hung on the wall, he set to work +to count and determine the stopping-places between Paris and Pau. But +this was only the work of a quarter of an hour, and then De Mouy did not +know what to do. + +He made two or three rounds of the room, rubbed his eyes, yawned, sat +down, got up, and sat down again. Finally, taking advantage of Henry's +invitation, and the familiarity which existed between princes and their +gentlemen, he placed his pistols and the lamp on a table, stretched +himself out on the great bed with the sombre hangings which furnished +the rear of the room, laid his sword by his side, and, sure of not being +surprised since a servant was in the adjoining room, he fell into a +pleasant sleep, the noise of which soon made the vast canopy ring with +its echoes. De Mouy snored like a regular old soldier, and in this he +could have vied with the King of Navarre himself. + +It was then that six men, their swords in their hands and their knives +at their belts, glided silently into the corridor which communicated by +a small door with the apartments of Catharine and by a large one with +those of Henry. + +One of the six men walked ahead of the others. Besides his bare sword +and his dagger, which was as strong as a hunting-knife, he carried his +faithful pistols fastened to his belt by silver hooks. + +This man was Maurevel. Having reached Henry's door, he stopped. + +"Are you perfectly sure that the sentinels are not in the corridor?" he +asked of the one who apparently commanded the little band. + +"Not a single one is at his post," replied the lieutenant. + +"Very good," said Maurevel. "Now there is nothing further except to find +out one thing--that is, if the man we are looking for is in his room." + +"But," said the lieutenant, arresting the hand which Maurevel had laid +on the handle of the door, "but, captain, these apartments are those of +the King of Navarre." + +"Who said they were not?" asked Maurevel. + +The guards looked at one another in amazement, and the lieutenant +stepped back. + +"What!" exclaimed he, "arrest some one at this hour, in the Louvre, and +in the apartments of the King of Navarre?" + +"What should you say," said Maurevel, "were I to tell you that the one +you are about to arrest is the King of Navarre himself?" + +"I should say, captain, that it is serious business and that without an +order signed by King Charles IX."-- + +"Read this," said Maurevel. + +And drawing from his doublet the order which Catharine had given him he +handed it to the lieutenant. + +"Very well," replied the latter after he had read it. "I have nothing +further to say." + +"And you are ready?" + +"I am ready." + +"And you?" continued Maurevel, turning to the other five sbirros. + +They all saluted respectfully. + +"Listen to me, then, gentlemen," said Maurevel; "this is my plan: two of +you will remain at this door, two at the door of the sleeping-room, and +two will go with me." + +"Afterwards?" said the lieutenant. + +"Pay close attention to this: we are ordered to prevent the prisoner +from calling out, shouting, or resisting. Any infraction of this order +is to be punished by death." + +"Well, well, he has full permission," said the lieutenant to the man +chosen by him to follow Maurevel into the king's room. + +"Full," said Maurevel. + +"Poor devil of the King of Navarre!" said one of the men. "It was +written above that he should not escape this." + +"And here too," said Maurevel, taking Catharine's order from the hands +of the lieutenant and returning it to his breast. + +Maurevel inserted the key Catharine had given him into the lock, and +leaving two men at the outer door, as had been agreed on, he entered the +antechamber with the four others. + +"Ah! ah!" said Maurevel, hearing the noisy breathing of the sleeper, the +sound of which reached even as far as that, "it seems that we shall find +what we are looking for." + +Orthon, thinking it was his master returning, at once started up and +found himself face to face with five armed men in the first chamber. + +At sight of the sinister face of Maurevel, who was called the King's +Slayer, the faithful servant sprang back, and placing himself before the +second door: + +"Who are you?" said he, "and what do you want?" + +"In the King's name," replied Maurevel, "where is your master?" + +"My master?" + +"Yes, the King of Navarre." + +"The King of Navarre is not in his room," said Orthon, barring the door +more than ever, "so you cannot enter." + +"Excuses, lies!" said Maurevel. "Come, stand back!" + +The Béarnais people are stubborn; this one growled like one of his own +mountain dogs, and far from being intimidated: + +"You shall not enter," said he; "the king is out." + +And he clung to the door. + +Maurevel made a sign. The four men seized the stubborn servant, snatched +him from the door-sill to which he was clinging, and as he started to +open his mouth and cry out, Maurevel clapped a hand to his lips. + +Orthon bit furiously at the assassin, who dropped his hand with a dull +cry, and brought down the handle of his sword on the head of the +servant. Orthon staggered and fell back, shouting, "Help! help! help!" + +Then his voice died away. He had fainted. + +The assassins stepped over his body, two stopped at the second door, and +two entered the sleeping-room with Maurevel. + +In the glow of the lamp burning on the night table they saw the bed. + +The curtains were drawn. + +"Oh! oh!" said the lieutenant, "he has stopped snoring, apparently." + +"Be quick!" cried Maurevel. + +At this, a sharp cry, resembling the roar of a lion rather than a human +voice, came from behind the curtains, which were violently thrown back, +and a man appeared sitting there armed with a cuirass, his head covered +with a helmet which reached to his eyes. Two pistols were in his hand, +and his sword lay across his knees. + +No sooner did Maurevel perceive this figure and recognize De Mouy than +he felt his hair rise on end; he became frightfully pale, foam sprang to +his lips, and he stepped back as if he had come face to face with a +ghost. Suddenly the armed figure rose and stepped forward as Maurevel +drew back, so that from the position of threatener, the latter now +became the one threatened, and _vice versa_. + +"Ah, scoundrel!" cried De Mouy, in a dull voice, "so you have come to +murder me as you murdered my father!" + +The two guards who had entered the room with Maurevel alone heard these +terrible words. As they were uttered a pistol was placed to Maurevel's +forehead. The latter sank to his knees just as De Mouy put his hand on +the trigger; the shot was fired and one of the guards who stood behind +him and whom he had unmasked by this movement dropped to the floor, +struck to the heart. At the same instant Maurevel fired back, but the +ball glanced off De Mouy's cuirass. + +Then, measuring the distance, De Mouy sprang forward and with the edge +of his broadsword split open the head of the second guard, and turning +towards Maurevel crossed swords with him. + +The struggle was brief but terrible. At the fourth pass Maurevel felt +the cold steel in his throat. He uttered a stifled cry and fell +backwards, upsetting the lamp, which went out in the fall. + +At once De Mouy, strong and agile as one of Homer's heroes, took +advantage of the darkness and sprang, with head lowered, into the +antechamber, knocked down one guard, pushed aside the other, and shot +like an arrow between those at the outer door. He escaped two +pistol-shots, the balls of which grazed the wall of the corridor, and +from that moment was safe, for one loaded pistol still was left him, +besides the sword which had dealt such terrible blows. + +For an instant he hesitated, undecided whether to go to Monsieur +d'Alençon's, the door of whose room he thought had just opened, or to +try and escape from the Louvre. He determined on the latter course, +continued on his way, slow at first, jumped ten steps at a time, and +reaching the gate uttered the two passwords and rushed on, shouting out: + +"Go upstairs; there is murder going on by order of the King." + +Taking advantage of the amazement produced on the sentinel by his words +and the sound of the pistol-shots, he ran on and disappeared in the Rue +du Coq without having received a scratch. + +It was at this moment that Catharine stopped the captain of the guards, +saying: + +"Stay here; I myself will go and see what is the matter." + +"But, madame," replied the captain, "the danger your majesty runs +compels me to follow you." + +"Stay here, monsieur," said Catharine, in a still more imperious tone, +"stay here. There is a more powerful protection around kings than the +human sword." + +The captain remained where he was. + +Taking a lamp, Catharine slipped her bare feet into a pair of velvet +slippers, left her room, and reaching the corridor, still full of smoke, +advanced as impassible and as cold as a shadow towards the apartments of +the King of Navarre. + +Silence reigned supreme. + +Catharine reached the door, crossed the threshold, and first saw Orthon, +who had fainted in the antechamber. + +"Ah! ah!" said she, "here is the servant; further on we shall probably +find the master." She entered the second door. + +Then her foot ran against a corpse; she lowered her lamp; it was the +guard who had had his head split open. He was quite dead. + +A few feet further on the lieutenant, who had been struck by a bullet, +was drawing his last breath. + +Finally, before the bed lay a man whose face was as pale as death and +who was bleeding from a double wound in his throat. He was clinching his +hands convulsively in his efforts to rise. + +It was Maurevel. + +Catharine shuddered. She saw the empty bed, she looked around the room +seeking in vain for the body she hoped to find among the three corpses. + +Maurevel recognized Catharine. His eyes were horribly dilated and he +made a despairing gesture towards her. + +"Well," said she in a whisper, "where is he? what has happened? +Unfortunate man! have you let him escape?" + +Maurevel strove to speak, but an unintelligible sound came from his +throat, a bloody foam covered his lips, and he shook his head in sign of +inability and pain. + +"Speak!" cried Catharine, "speak! if only one word!" + +Maurevel pointed to his wound, again made several inarticulate gasps, +which ended in a hoarse rattle, and fainted. + +Catharine looked around her. She was surrounded by the bodies of dead +and dying; blood flowed in every direction, and the silence of death +hovered over everything. + +Once again she spoke to Maurevel, but failed to rouse him; he was not +only silent but motionless; a paper was in his doublet. It was the order +of arrest signed by the King. Catharine seized it and hid it in her +breast. Just then she heard a light step behind her, and turning, she +saw the Duc d'Alençon at the door. In spite of himself he had been drawn +thither by the noise, and the sight before him fascinated him. + +"You here?" said she. + +"Yes, madame. For God's sake what has happened?" + +"Go back to your room, François; you will know soon enough." + +D'Alençon was not as ignorant of the affair as Catharine supposed. + +At the sound of the first steps in the corridor he had listened. Seeing +some men enter the apartments of the King of Navarre, and by connecting +this with some words Catharine had uttered, he had guessed what was +about to take place, and was rejoiced at having so dangerous an enemy +destroyed by a hand stronger than his own. Before long the noises of +pistol-shots and the rapid steps of a man running had attracted his +attention, and he had seen disappearing in the light space caused by the +opening of the door leading to the stairway the red cloak too well known +not to be recognized. + +"De Mouy!" he cried, "De Mouy in the apartments of the King of Navarre! +Why, that is impossible! Can it be Monsieur de la Mole?" + +He grew alarmed. Remembering that the young man had been recommended to +him by Marguerite herself, and wishing to make sure that it was he whom +he had just seen, he ascended hurriedly to the chamber of the two young +men. It was vacant. But in a corner he found the famous red cloak +hanging against the wall. His suspicions were confirmed. It was not La +Mole, but De Mouy. Pale and trembling lest the Huguenot should be +discovered, and would betray the secrets of the conspiracy, he rushed to +the gate of the Louvre. There he was told that the red cloak had escaped +safe and sound, shouting out as he passed that some one was being +murdered in the Louvre by order of the King. + +"He is mistaken," murmured D'Alençon; "it is by order of the queen +mother." + +Returning to the scene of combat, he found Catharine wandering like a +hyena among the dead. + +At the order from his mother the young man returned to his rooms, +affecting calmness and obedience, in spite of the tumultuous thoughts +which were passing through his mind. + +In despair at the failure of this new attempt, Catharine called the +captain of the guards, had the bodies removed, gave orders that +Maurevel, who was only wounded, be carried to his home, and told them +not to waken the King. + +"Oh!" she murmured, as she returned to her rooms, her head sunk on her +bosom, "he has again escaped. The hand of God is over this man. He will +reign! he will reign!" + +Entering her room, she passed her hand across her brow, and assumed an +ordinary smile. + +"What was the matter, madame?" asked every one except Madame de Sauve, +who was too frightened to ask any questions. + +"Nothing," replied Catharine; "a noise, that was all." + +"Oh!" cried Madame de Sauve, suddenly pointing to the floor, "your +majesty says there is nothing the matter, and every one of your +majesty's steps leaves a trace of blood on the carpet!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV. + +A NIGHT OF KINGS. + + +Charles IX. walked along with Henry leaning on his arm, followed by his +four gentlemen and preceded by two torch-bearers. + +"When I leave the Louvre," said the poor King, "I feel a pleasure +similar to that which comes to me when I enter a beautiful forest. I +breathe, I live, I am free." + +Henry smiled. + +"In that case," said he, "your Majesty would be in your element among +the mountains of the Béarn." + +"Yes, and I understand that you want to go back to them; but if you are +very anxious to do so, Henriot," added Charles, laughing, "my advice is +to be careful, for my mother Catharine loves you so dearly that it is +absolutely impossible for her to get along without you." + +"What does your Majesty plan to do this evening?" asked Henry, changing +this dangerous conversation. + +"I want to have you meet some one, Henriot, and you shall give me your +opinion." + +"I am at your Majesty's orders." + +"To the right! to the right! We will take the Rue des Barres." + +The two kings, followed by their escort, had passed the Rue de la +Savonnerie, when in front of the Hôtel de Condé they saw two men, +wrapped in large cloaks, coming out of a secret door which one of them +noiselessly closed behind him. + +"Oh! oh!" said the King to Henry, who as usual had seen everything, but +had not spoken, "this deserves attention." + +"Why do you say that, sire?" asked the King of Navarre. + +"It is not on your account, Henriot. You are sure of your wife," added +Charles with a smile; "but your cousin De Condé is not sure of his, or +if so, he is making a mistake, the devil!" + +"But how do you know, sire, that it is Madame de Condé whom these +gentlemen have been visiting?" + +"Instinct tells me. The fact that the men stood in the doorway without +moving until they saw us; then the cut of the shorter one's cloak--by +Heaven! that would be strange!" + +"What?" + +"Nothing. An idea I had, that is all; let us go on." + +He walked up to the two men, who, seeing him, started to walk away. + +"Hello, gentlemen!" cried the King; "stop!" + +"Are you speaking to us?" asked a voice which made Charles and his +companion tremble. + +"Well, Henriot," said Charles, "do you recognize the voice now?" + +"Sire," said Henry, "if your brother the Duc d'Anjou was not at La +Rochelle, I would swear it was he speaking." + +"Well," said Charles, "he is not at La Rochelle, that is all." + +"But who is with him?" + +"Do you not recognize his companion?" + +"No, sire." + +"Yet his figure is unmistakable. Wait, you shall see who he is--hello, +there! I tell you," cried the King, "do you not hear, by Heaven?" + +"Are you the watch, that you order us to stop?" said the taller of the +two men, freeing his arm from the folds of his cloak. + +"Pretend that we are the watch," said the King, "and stop when we tell +you to do so." + +Leaning over to Henry's ear, he added: + +"Now you will see the volcano send forth its fire." + +"There are eight of you," said the taller of the two men, this time +showing not only his arm but his face, "but were you a hundred, pass +on!" + +"Ah! ah! the Duc de Guise!" said Henry. + +"Ah! our cousin from Lorraine," said the King; "at last you will meet! +How fortunate!" + +"The King!" cried the duke. + +At these words the other man covered himself with his cloak and stood +motionless, having first uncovered out of respect. + +"Sire," said the Duc de Guise, "I have just been paying a visit to my +sister-in-law, Madame de Condé." + +"Yes--and you brought one of your gentlemen with you? Which one?" + +"Sire," replied the duke, "your Majesty does not know him." + +"We will meet him, however," said the King. + +Walking up to the other figure, he signed to one of the lackeys to bring +a torch. + +"Pardon me, brother!" said the Duc d'Anjou, opening his cloak and bowing +with poorly disguised anger. + +"Ah! ah! Henry, is it you? But no, it is not possible, I am mistaken--my +brother of Anjou would not have gone to see any one else before first +calling on me. He knows that for royal princes, returning to the +capital, Paris has but one entrance, the gate of the Louvre." + +"Pardon me, sire," said the Duc d'Anjou; "I beg your Majesty to excuse +my thoughtlessness." + +"Ah, yes!" replied the King, mockingly; "and what were you doing, +brother, at the Hôtel de Condé?" + +"Why," said the King of Navarre in his sly way, "what your Majesty +intimated just now." + +And leaning over to the King he ended his sentence in a burst of +laughter. + +"What is it?" asked the Duc de Guise, haughtily; for like every one else +at court, he had a way of treating the poor King of Navarre very rudely, +"why should I not go and see my sister-in-law. Does not Monsieur le Duc +d'Alençon visit his?" + +Henry flushed slightly. + +"What sister-in-law?" asked Charles. "I know none except Queen +Elizabeth." + +"Pardon, sire! it was your sister I should have said--Madame Marguerite, +whom we saw pass in her litter as we came by here half an hour ago. She +was accompanied by two courtiers who rode on either side of her." + +"Indeed!" said Charles. "What do you say to that, Henry?" + +"That the Queen of Navarre is perfectly free to go where she pleases, +but I doubt if she has left the Louvre." + +"Well, I am sure she did," said the Duc de Guise. + +"And I too," said the Duc d'Anjou, "from the fact that the litter +stopped in the Rue Cloche Percée." + +"Your sister-in-law, not this one," said Henry, pointing to the Hôtel de +Condé, "but that one," turning in the direction of the Hôtel de Guise, +"must also be of the party, for we left them together, and, as you know, +they are inseparable." + +"I do not know what your majesty means," replied the Duc de Guise. + +"On the contrary," said the king, "nothing is simpler. That is why a +courtier was riding at either side of the litter." + +"Well!" said the duke, "if there is any scandal concerning my +sisters-in-law, let us beg the King to withhold justice." + +"Well, by Heaven," said Henry, "let us leave Madame de Condé and Madame +de Nevers; the King is not anxious about his sister--and I have +confidence in my wife." + +"No, no," said Charles, "I want to make sure of it; but let us attend to +the matter ourselves. The litter stopped in the Rue Cloche Percée, you +say, cousin?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"Do you know the house?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"Well, let us go to it. And if in order to find out who is in it, it is +necessary to burn it down, we will burn it." + +It was with this end in view, which was rather discouraging for the +tranquillity of those concerned, that the four chief lords of the +Christian world set out to the Rue Saint Antoine. + +They reached the Rue Cloche Percée. Charles, who wished to work +privately, dismissed the gentlemen of his suite, saying that they might +have the rest of the night to themselves, but for them to be at the +Bastille with two horses at six o'clock in the morning. + +There were only three houses in the Rue Cloche Percée. The search was +much less difficult as two of the buildings were perfectly willing to +open their doors. One of the houses faced the Rue Saint Antoine and the +other the Rue du Roi de Sicile. + +As to the third house, that was a different matter. It was the one which +was guarded by the German janitor, and this janitor was not easily +managed. That night Paris seemed destined to offer memorable examples of +conjugal fidelity. In vain did Monsieur de Guise threaten in his purest +Saxon; in vain did Henry of Anjou offer a purse filled with gold; in +vain Charles went so far as to say that he was lieutenant of the watch; +the brave German paid attention neither to the statement, the offer, nor +the threats. Seeing that they insisted, and in a way that was becoming +importunate, he slipped the nose of a gun under the iron bars, a move +which brought forth bursts of laughter from three of the four visitors. +Henry of Navarre stood apart, as if the affair had no interest for him. +But as the weapon could not be turned between the bars, it was scarcely +dangerous for any except a blind man, who might stand directly in front +of it. + +Seeing that the porter was neither to be intimidated, bribed, nor +persuaded, the Duc de Guise pretended to leave with his companions; but +the retreat did not last long. At the corner of the Rue Saint Antoine +the duke found what he sought. This was a rock similar in size to those +which three thousand years before had been moved by Ajax, son of +Telamon, and Diomed. The duke raised it to his shoulder and came back, +signing to his companions to follow. Just then the janitor, who had seen +those he took for malefactors depart, closed the door. But he had not +time to draw the bolts before the Duc de Guise took advantage of the +moment, and hurled his veritable living catapult against the door. The +lock broke, carrying away a portion of the wall to which it had been +fastened. The door sprang open, knocking down the German, who, in +falling, gave a terrible cry. This cry awakened the garrison, which +otherwise would have run great risk of being surprised. + +At that moment La Mole and Marguerite were translating an idyl of +Theocritus, and Coconnas, pretending that he too was a Greek, was +drinking some strong wine from Syracuse with Henriette. The scientific +and bacchanalian conversation was violently interrupted. + +La Mole and Coconnas at once extinguished the candles, and opening the +windows, sprang out on the balcony. Then perceiving four men in the +darkness, they set to work to hurl at them everything they had at hand, +in the meantime making a frightful noise with blows from the flat of +their swords, which, however, struck nothing but the wall. Charles, the +most infuriated of the besiegers, received a sharp blow on the shoulder, +the Duc d'Anjou a bowl full of orange and lemon marmalade, and the Duc +de Guise a leg of venison. Henry received nothing. He was downstairs +questioning the porter, whom Monsieur de Guise had strapped to the door, +and who continued to answer by his eternal "_Ich verstehe nicht._" The +women encouraged the besieged by handing them projectiles, which +succeeded one another like hailstones. + +"The devil!" exclaimed Charles IX., as a table struck his head, driving +his hat over his eyes, "if they don't open the door pretty soon I will +have them all hanged." + +"My brother!" whispered Marguerite to La Mole. + +"The King!" cried the latter to Henriette. + +"The King! the King!" repeated Henriette to Coconnas, who was dragging a +chest to the window, and who was trying to exterminate the Duc de Guise. +Without knowing who the latter was he was having a private struggle with +him. + +"The King, I tell you," repeated Henriette. + +Coconnas let go of the chest and looked up in amazement. + +"The King?" said he. + +"Yes, the King." + +"Then let us hide." + +"Yes. La Mole and Marguerite have already fled. Come!" + +"Where?" + +"Come, I tell you." + +And seizing him by the hand, Henriette pushed Coconnas through the +secret door which connected with the adjoining house, and all four, +having locked this door behind them, escaped into the Rue Tizon. + +"Oh! oh!" said Charles, "I think that the garrison has surrendered." + +They waited a few minutes. No sound reached the besiegers. + +"They are preparing some ruse," said the Duc de Guise. + +"It is more likely that they have recognized my brother's voice and have +fled," said the Duc d'Anjou. + +"They would have to pass by here," said Charles. + +"Yes," said the Duc d'Anjou, "unless the house has two exits." + +"Cousin," said the King, "take up your stone again and hurl it against +the other door as you did at this." + +The duke thought it unnecessary to resort to such means, and as he had +noticed that the second door was not as solid as the first he broke it +down by a simple kick. + +"The torches! the torches!" cried the King. + +The lackeys approached. The torches were out, but the men had everything +necessary for relighting them. This was done. Charles IX. took one and +handed the other to the Duc d'Anjou. + +The Duc de Guise entered first, sword in hand. + +Henry brought up the rear. + +They reached the first floor. + +In the dining-room the table was set or rather upset, for it was the +supper which had furnished the projectiles. The candlesticks were +overturned, the furniture topsy-turvy, and everything which was not +silver plate lay in fragments. + +They entered the reception-room, but found no more clue there than in +the other room as to the identity of the revellers. Some Greek and Latin +books and several musical instruments were all they saw. + +The sleeping-room was more silent still. A night lamp burned in an +alabaster globe suspended from the ceiling; but it was evident that the +room had not been occupied. + +"There is a second door," said the King. + +"Very likely," said the Duc d'Anjou. + +"But where is it?" asked the Duc de Guise. + +They looked everywhere, but could not find it. + +"Where is the janitor?" asked the King. + +"I bound him to the gate," said the Duc de Guise. + +"Ask him, cousin." + +"He will not answer." + +"Bah! we will have a dry fire built around his legs," said the King, +laughing, "then he will speak." + +Henry glanced hurriedly out of the window. + +"He is not there," said he. + +"Who untied him?" asked the Duc de Guise, quickly. + +"The devil!" exclaimed the King, "and we know nothing as yet." + +"Well!" said Henry, "you see very clearly, sire, that there is nothing +to prove that my wife and Monsieur de Guise's sister-in-law have been +in this house." + +"That is so," said Charles. "The Scriptures tell us that there are three +things which leave no trace--the bird in the air, the fish in the sea, +and the woman--no, I am wrong, the man, in"-- + +"So," interrupted Henry, "what we had better do is"-- + +"Yes," said Charles, "what we had better do is for me to look after my +bruise, for you, D'Anjou, to wipe off your orange marmalade, and for +you, De Guise, to get rid of the grease." Thereupon they left without +even troubling to close the door. Reaching the Rue Saint Antoine: + +"Where are you bound for, gentlemen?" asked the King of the Duc d'Anjou +and the Duc de Guise. + +"Sire, we are going to the house of Nantouillet, who is expecting my +Lorraine cousin and myself to supper. Will your Majesty come with us?" + +"No, thanks, we are going in a different direction. Will you take one of +my torch-bearers?" + +"Thank you, no, sire," said the Duc d'Anjou, hastily. + +"Good; he is afraid I will spy on him," whispered Charles to the King of +Navarre. + +Then taking the latter by the arm: + +"Come, Henriot," said he, "I will take you to supper to-night." + +"Are we not going back to the Louvre?" asked Henry. + +"No, I tell you, you stupid! Come with me, since I tell you to come. +Come!" + +And he dragged Henry down the Rue Geoffroy Lasnier. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVI. + +THE ANAGRAM. + + +The Rue Garnier sur l'Eau runs into the Rue Geoffroy Lasnier, and the +Rue des Barres lies at right angles to the former. + +On the right, a short distance down the Rue de la Mortellerie, stands a +small house in the centre of a garden surrounded by a high wall, which +has but one entrance. Charles drew a key from his pocket and inserted +it into the lock. The gate was unbolted and immediately opened. Telling +Henry and the lackey bearing the torch to enter, the King closed and +locked the gate behind him. + +Light came from one small window which Charles smilingly pointed out to +Henry. + +"Sire, I do not understand," said the latter. + +"But you will, Henriot." + +The King of Navarre looked at Charles in amazement. His voice and his +face had assumed an expression of gentleness so different from usual +that Henry scarcely recognized him. + +"Henriot," said the King, "I told you that when I left the Louvre I came +out of hell. When I enter here I am in paradise." + +"Sire," said Henry, "I am happy that your Majesty has thought me worthy +of taking this trip to Heaven with you." + +"The road thither is a narrow one," said the King, turning to a small +stairway, "but nothing can be compared to it." + +"Who is the angel who guards the entrance to your Eden, sire?" + +"You shall see," replied Charles IX. + +Signing to Henry to follow him noiselessly, he opened first one door, +then another, and finally paused on a threshold. + +"Look!" said he. + +Henry approached and gazed on one of the most beautiful pictures he had +ever seen. + +A young woman of eighteen or nineteen lay sleeping, her head resting on +the foot of a little bed in which a child was asleep. The woman held its +little feet close to her lips, while her long hair fell over her +shoulders like a flood of gold. It was like one of Albane's pictures of +the Virgin and the Child Jesus. + +"Oh, sire," said the King of Navarre, "who is this lovely creature?" + +"The angel of my paradise, Henriot, the only one who loves me." + +Henry smiled. + +"Yes," said Charles, "for she loved me before she knew I was King." + +"And since she has known it?" + +"Well, since she has known it," said Charles, with a smile which showed +that royalty sometimes weighed heavily on him, "since she has known it +she loves me still; so you may judge." + +The King approached the woman softly and pressed a kiss as light as that +which a bee gives to a lily on her rosy cheek. + +Yet, light as it was, she awakened at once. + +"Charles!" she murmured, opening her eyes. + +"You see," said the King, "she calls me Charles. The queen says 'sire'!" + +"Oh!" cried the young woman, "you are not alone, my King." + +"No, my sweet Marie, I wanted to bring you another king, happier than +myself because he has no crown; more unhappy than I because he has no +Marie Touchet. God makes compensation for everything." + +"Sire, is it the King of Navarre?" asked Marie. + +"Yes, my child; come here, Henriot." The King of Navarre drew near; +Charles took him by the hand. + +"See this hand, Marie," said he, "it is the hand of a good brother and a +loyal friend. Were it not for this hand"-- + +"Well, sire?" + +"Well, had it not been for this hand to-day, Marie, our child would have +no father." + +Marie uttered a cry, fell on her knees, and seizing Henry's hand covered +it with kisses. + +"Very good, Marie, very good," said Charles. + +"What have you done to thank him, sire?" + +"I have done for him what he did for me." + +Henry looked at Charles in astonishment. + +"Some day you will know what I mean, Henriot; meanwhile come here and +see." He approached the bed, on which the child still slept. + +"Ah!" said he, "if this little fellow were in the Louvre instead of here +in this little house in the Rue des Barres, many things would be changed +for the present as well as for the future perhaps."[13] + +"Sire," said Marie, "if your Majesty is willing, I prefer him to stay +here; he sleeps better." + +"Let us not disturb his slumber, then," said the King; "it is so sweet +to sleep when one does not dream!" + +"Well, sire," said Marie, pointing to a door opening out of the room. + +"Yes, you are right, Marie," said Charles IX., "let us have supper." + +"My well-beloved Charles," said Marie, "you will ask the king your +brother to excuse me, will you not?" + +"Why?" + +"For having dismissed our servants, sire," continued Marie, turning to +the King of Navarre; "you must know that Charles wants to be served by +me alone." + +"_Ventre saint gris!_" said Henry, "I should think so!" + +Both men entered the dining-room. The mother, anxious and careful, laid +a warm blanket over the little Charles, who, thanks to the sound sleep +of childhood, so envied by his father, had not wakened. + +Marie rejoined them. + +"There are only two covers!" said the King. + +"Permit me," said Marie, "to serve your majesties." + +"Now," said Charles, "this is where you cause me trouble, Henriot." + +"How so, sire?" + +"Did you not hear?" + +"Forgive me, Charles, forgive me." + +"Yes, I will forgive you. But sit here, near me, between us." + +"I will obey," said Marie. + +She brought a plate, sat down between the two kings, and served them. + +"Is it not good, Henriot," said Charles, "to have one place in the world +in which one can eat and drink without needing any one to taste the +meats and wines beforehand?" + +"Sire," said Henry, smiling, and by the smile replying to the constant +fear in his own mind, "believe me, I appreciate your happiness more than +any one." + +"And tell her, Henriot, that in order for us to live happily, she must +not mingle in politics. Above all, she must not become acquainted with +my mother." + +"Queen Catharine loves your Majesty so passionately that she would be +jealous of any other love," replied Henry, finding by a subterfuge the +means of avoiding the dangerous confidence of the King. + +"Marie," said the latter, "I have brought you one of the finest and the +wittiest men I know. At court, you see, and this is saying a great deal, +he puts every one in the shade. I alone have clearly understood, not his +heart, perhaps, but his mind." + +"Sire," said Henry, "I am sorry that in exaggerating the one as you do, +you mistrust the other." + +"I exaggerate nothing, Henriot," said the King; "besides, you will be +known some day." + +Then turning to the young woman: + +"He makes delightful anagrams. Ask him to make one of your name. I will +answer that he will do it." + +"Oh, what could you expect to find in the name of a poor girl like me? +What gentle thought could there be in the letters with which chance +spelled Marie Touchet?" + +"Oh! the anagram from this name, sire," said Henry, "is so easy that +there is no great merit in finding it." + +"Ah! ah! it is already found," said Charles. "You see--Marie." + +Henry drew his tablets from the pocket of his doublet, tore out a paper, +and below the name _Marie Touchet_ wrote _Je charme tout_. Then he +handed the paper to the young woman. + +"Truly," she cried, "it is impossible!" + +"What has he found?" asked Charles. + +"Sire, I dare not repeat it." + +"Sire," said Henry, "in the name Marie Touchet there is, letter for +letter, by changing the 'i' into a 'j,' as is often done, _Je charme +tout_." (I charm all.) + +"Yes," exclaimed Charles, "letter for letter. I want this to be your +motto, Marie, do you hear? Never was one better deserved. Thanks, +Henriot. Marie, I will give it to you written in diamonds." + +The supper over, two o'clock struck from Notre-Dame. + +"Now," said Charles, "in return for this compliment, Marie, you will +give the king an armchair, in which he can sleep until daybreak; but let +it be some distance from us, because he snores frightfully. Then if you +waken before I do, you will rouse me, for at six o'clock we have to be +at the Bastille. Good-night, Henriot. Make yourself as comfortable as +possible. But," he added, approaching the King of Navarre and laying his +hand on his shoulder, "for your life, Henry,--do you hear? for your +life,--do not leave here without me, especially to return to the +Louvre." + +Henry had suspected too many things in what still remained unexplained +to him to disobey such advice. Charles IX. entered his room, and Henry, +the sturdy mountaineer, settled himself in an armchair, in which he soon +justified the precaution taken by his brother-in-law in keeping at a +distance. + +At dawn he was awakened by Charles. As he had not undressed, it did not +take him long to finish his toilet. The King was more happy and smiling +than he ever was at the Louvre. The hours spent by him in that little +house in the Rue des Barres were his hours of sunshine. + +Both men went out through the sleeping-room. The young woman was still +in bed. The child was asleep in its cradle. Both were smiling. + +Charles looked at them for a moment with infinite tenderness. + +Then turning to the King of Navarre: + +"Henriot," said he, "if you ever hear what I did for you last night, or +if misfortune come to me, remember this child asleep in its cradle." + +Then kissing both mother and child on the forehead, without giving Henry +time to question him: + +"Good-by, my angels," said he, and went out. + +Henry followed, deep in thought. The horses were waiting for them at the +Bastille, held by the gentlemen to whom Charles IX. had given the order. + +Charles signed to Henry to mount, sprang into his own saddle, and riding +through the garden of the Arbalite, followed the outside highways. + +"Where are we going?" asked Henry. + +"We are going to see if the Duc d'Anjou returned for Madame de Condé +alone," replied Charles, "and if there is as much ambition as love in +his heart, which I greatly doubt." + +Henry did not understand the answer, but followed Charles in silence. + +They reached the Marais, and as from the shadow of the palisades they +could see all which at that time was called the Faubourg Saint Laurent, +Charles pointed out to Henry through the grayish mist of the morning +some men wrapped in great cloaks and wearing fur caps. They were on +horseback, and rode ahead of a wagon which was heavily laden. As they +drew near they became outlined more clearly, and one could see another +man in a long brown cloak, his face hidden by a French hat, riding and +talking with them. + +"Ah! ah!" said Charles, smiling, "I thought so." + +"Well, sire," said Henry, "if I am not mistaken, that rider in the brown +cloak is the Duc d'Anjou." + +"Yes," said Charles IX. "Turn out a little, Henriot, I do not want him +to see us." + +"But," asked Henry, "who are the men in gray cloaks with fur caps?" + +"Those men," said Charles, "are Polish ambassadors, and in that wagon is +a crown. And now," said he, urging his horse to a gallop, and turning +into the road of the Porte du Temple, "come, Henriot, I have seen all +that I wanted to see." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVII. + +THE RETURN TO THE LOUVRE. + + +When Catharine thought that everything was over in the King of Navarre's +rooms, when the dead guards had been removed, when Maurevel had been +carried to her apartments, and the carpet had been cleaned, she +dismissed her women, for it was almost midnight, and strove to sleep. +But the shock had been too violent, and the disappointment too keen. + +That detested Henry, constantly escaping her snares, which were usually +fatal, seemed protected by some invincible power which Catharine +persisted in calling chance, although in her heart of hearts a voice +told her that its true name was destiny. The thought that the report of +the new attempt in spreading throughout the Louvre and beyond the Louvre +would give a greater confidence than ever in the future to Henry and the +Huguenots exasperated her, and at that moment had chance, against which +she was so unfortunately struggling, delivered her enemy into her hands, +surely with the little Florentine dagger she wore at her belt she could +have thwarted that destiny so favorable to the King of Navarre. + +The hours of the night, hours so long for one waiting and watching +struck one after another without Catharine's being able to close her +eyes. A whole world of new plans unrolled in her visionary mind during +those nocturnal hours. Finally at daybreak she rose, dressed herself, +and went to the apartments of Charles IX. + +The guards, who were accustomed to see her go to the King at all hours +of the day and night, let her pass. She crossed the antechamber, +therefore, and reached the armory. But there she found the nurse of +Charles, who was awake. + +"My son?" said the queen. + +"Madame, he gave orders that no one was to be admitted to his room +before eight o'clock." + +"This order was not for me, nurse." + +"It was for every one, madame." + +Catharine smiled. + +"Yes, I know very well," said the nurse, "that no one has any right to +oppose your majesty; I therefore beg you to listen to the prayer of a +poor woman and to refrain from entering." + +"Nurse, I must speak to my son." + +"Madame, I will not open the door except on a formal order from your +majesty." + +"Open, nurse," said Catharine, "I order you to open!" + +At this voice, more respected and much more feared in the Louvre than +that of Charles himself, the nurse handed the key to Catharine, but the +queen had no need of it. She drew from her pocket her own key of the +room, and under its heavy pressure the door yielded. + +The room was vacant, Charles's bed was untouched, and his greyhound +Actéon, asleep on the bear-skin that covered the step of the bed, rose +and came forward to lick the ivory hands of Catharine. + +"Ah!" said the queen, frowning, "he is out! I will wait for him." + +She seated herself, pensive and gloomy, at the window which overlooked +the court of the Louvre, and from which the chief entrance was visible. + +For two hours she sat there, as motionless and pale as a marble statue, +when at length she perceived a troop of horsemen returning to the +Louvre, at whose head she recognized Charles and Henry of Navarre. + +Then she understood all. Instead of arguing with her in regard to the +arrest of his brother-in-law, Charles had taken him away and so had +saved him. + +"Blind, blind, blind!" she murmured. Then she waited. An instant later +footsteps were heard in the adjoining room, which was the armory. + +"But, sire," Henry was saying, "now that we have returned to the Louvre, +tell me why you took me away and what is the service you have rendered +me." + +"No, no, Henriot," replied Charles, laughing, "some day, perhaps, you +will find out; but for the present it must remain a mystery. Know only +that for the time being you have in all probability brought about a +fierce quarrel between my mother and me." + +As he uttered these words, Charles raised the curtain and found himself +face to face with Catharine. + +Behind him and above his shoulder rose the pale, anxious countenance of +the Béarnais. + +"Ah! you here, madame?" said Charles IX., frowning. + +"Yes, my son," said Catharine, "I want to speak to you." + +"To me?" + +"To you alone." + +"Well, well," said Charles, turning to his brother-in-law, "since there +is no escape, the sooner the better." + +"I will leave you, sire," said Henry. + +"Yes, yes, leave us," replied Charles; "and as you are a Catholic, +Henriot, go and hear a mass for me while I stay for the sermon." + +Henry bowed and withdrew. + +Charles IX. went directly to the point. + +"Well, madame," said he, trying to make a joke of the affair. "By +Heaven! you are waiting to scold me, are you not? I wickedly upset your +little plan. Well, the devil! I could not let the man who had just saved +my life be arrested and taken to the Bastille. Nor did I want to quarrel +with my mother. I am a good son. Moreover," he added in a low tone, "the +Lord punishes children who quarrel with their mothers. Witness my +brother François II. Forgive me, therefore, frankly, and confess that +the joke was a good one." + +"Sire," said Catharine, "your Majesty is mistaken; it is not a joke." + +"Yes, yes! and you will end by looking at it in that way, or the devil +take me!" + +"Sire, by your blunder you have baffled a project which would have led +to an important discovery." + +"Bah! a project. Are you embarrassed because of a baffled project, +mother? You can make twenty others, and in those,--well, I promise I +will second you." + +"Now that you will second me it is too late, for he is warned and will +be on his guard." + +"Well," said the King, "let us come to the point. What have you against +Henriot?" + +"The fact that he conspires." + +"Yes, I know that this is your constant accusation; but does not every +one conspire more or less in this charming royal household called the +Louvre?" + +"But he conspires more than any one, and he is much more dangerous than +one imagines." + +"A regular Lorenzino!" said Charles. + +"Listen," said Catharine, becoming gloomy at mention of this name, which +reminded her of one of the bloodiest catastrophes in the history of +Florence. "Listen; there is a way of proving to me that I am wrong." + +"What way, mother?" + +"Ask Henry who was in his room last night." + +"In his room last night?" + +"Yes; and if he tells you"-- + +"Well?" + +"Well, I shall be ready to admit that I have been mistaken." + +"But in case it was a woman, we cannot ask." + +"A woman?" + +"Yes." + +"A woman who killed two of your guards and perhaps mortally wounded +Monsieur de Maurevel!" + +"Oh! oh!" said the King, "this is serious. Was there any bloodshed?" + +"Three men were stretched on the floor." + +"And the one who reduced them to this state?" + +"Escaped safe and sound." + +"By Gog and Magog!" exclaimed Charles, "he was a brave fellow, and you +are right, mother, I must know him." + +"Well, I tell you in advance that you will not know him, at least not +through Henry." + +"But through you, mother? The man did not escape without leaving some +trace, without your noticing some part of his clothing." + +"Nothing was noticed except the very elegant red cloak which he wore." + +"Ah! ah! a red cloak!" cried Charles. "I know only one at court +remarkable enough to attract attention." + +"Exactly," said Catharine. + +"Well?" demanded Charles. + +"Well," said Catharine, "wait for me in your rooms, my son, and I will +go and see if my orders have been carried out." + +Catharine left, and Charles, alone, began walking up and down +distractedly, whistling a hunting-song, one hand in his doublet, the +other hanging down, which his dog licked every time he paused. + +As to Henry he had left his brother-in-law greatly disturbed, and +instead of going along the main corridor he had taken the small private +stairway, to which we have already referred more than once, and which +led to the second story. Scarcely had he ascended four steps before he +perceived a figure at the first landing. He stopped, raising his hand to +his dagger. But he soon saw it was a woman, who took hold of his hand +and said in a charming voice which he well knew: + +"Thank God, sire, you are safe and sound. I was so afraid for you, but +no doubt God heard my prayer." + +"What has happened?" said Henry. + +"You will know when you reach your rooms. You need not worry over +Orthon. I have seen to him." + +The young woman descended the stairs hastily, making Henry believe that +she had met him by chance. + +"That is strange," said Henry to himself. "What is the matter? What has +happened to Orthon?" + +Unfortunately, the question was not heard by Madame de Sauve, for the +latter had already disappeared. + +Suddenly at the top of the stairs Henry perceived another figure, but +this time it was that of a man. + +"Hush!" said the man. + +"Ah! is it you, François?" + +"Do not call me by my name." + +"What has happened?" + +"Return to your rooms and you will see, then slip into the corridor, +look carefully around to make sure that no one is spying on you, and +come to my apartments. The door will be ajar." + +He, too, disappeared down the stairs, like the phantoms in a theatre who +glide through a trap door. + +"_Ventre saint gris!_" murmured the Béarnais, "the puzzle continues; but +since the answer is in my rooms, let us go thither and find it." + +However, it was not without emotion that Henry went on his way. He had +the sensitiveness and the superstition of youth. Everything was clearly +reflected on his mind, the surface of which was as smooth as a mirror, +and what he had just heard foretold trouble. + +He reached the door of his rooms and listened. Not a sound. Besides, +since Charlotte had said to return to his apartments, it was evident +that there was nothing for him to fear by doing so. He glanced hurriedly +around the first room--it was vacant. Nothing showed that anything had +occurred. + +"Orthon is not here," said he. + +He passed on to the next room. There everything was explained. + +In spite of the water which had been thrown on in bucketsful, great red +spots covered the floor. A piece of furniture was broken, the bed +curtains had been slashed by the sword, a Venetian mirror had been +shattered by a bullet; and a bloody hand which had left its terrible +imprint on the wall showed that this silent chamber had been the scene +of a frightful struggle. Henry embraced all these details at a glance, +and passing his hand across his forehead, now damp with perspiration, +murmured: + +"Ah, I know now the service the King has rendered me. They came here to +assassinate me--and--ah! De Mouy! what have they done to De Mouy? The +wretches! They may have killed him!" + +And as anxious to learn the news as the Duc d'Alençon was to tell it, +Henry threw a last mournful glance on the surrounding objects, hurried +from the room, reached the corridor, made sure that it was vacant, and +pushing open the half-closed door, which he carefully shut behind him, +he hurried to the Duc d'Alençon's. + +The duke was waiting for him in the first room. Laying his finger on his +lips, he hastily took Henry's hand and drew him into a small round tower +which was completely isolated, and which consequently was out of range +of spies. + +"Ah, brother," said he, "what a horrible night!" + +"What happened?" asked Henry. + +"They tried to arrest you." + +"Me?" + +"Yes, you." + +"For what reason?" + +"I do not know. Where were you?" + +"The King took me into the city with him last night." + +"Then he knew about it," said D'Alençon. "But since you were not in your +rooms, who was?" + +"Was some one there?" asked Henry as if he were ignorant of the fact. + +"Yes, a man. When I had heard the noise, I ran to help you; but it was +too late." + +"Was the man arrested?" asked Henry, anxiously. + +"No, he escaped, after he had wounded Maurevel dangerously and killed +two guards." + +"Ah! brave De Mouy!" cried Henry. + +"It was De Mouy, then?" said D'Alençon, quickly. + +Henry saw that he had made a mistake. + +"I presume so," said he, "for I had an appointment with him to discuss +your escape, and to tell him that I had yielded all my rights to the +throne of Navarre to you." + +"If that is known," said D'Alençon, growing pale, "we are lost." + +"Yes, for Maurevel will speak." + +"Maurevel received a sword-thrust in his throat, and I found out from +the surgeon who dressed the wound that it would be a week before he +would utter a single word." + +"A week! That is more than enough for De Mouy to escape." + +"For that matter," said D'Alençon, "it might have been some one besides +Monsieur de Mouy." + +"You think so?" said Henry. + +"Yes, the man disappeared very quickly, and nothing but his red cloak +was seen." + +"And a red cloak," said Henry, "is more apt to be worn by a courtier +than by a soldier. I should never suspect De Mouy in a red cloak." + +"No, if any one were suspected," said D'Alençon, "it would be more apt +to be"-- + +He stopped. + +"It would be more likely to be Monsieur de la Mole," said Henry. + +"Certainly, since I myself, who saw the man running away, thought so for +an instant." + +"You thought so? Why, it must have been Monsieur de la Mole, then." + +"Does he know anything?" asked D'Alençon. + +"Absolutely nothing; at least, nothing of importance." + +"Brother," said the duke; "I really think now that it was he." + +"The devil!" said Henry; "if it was, that will trouble the queen +greatly, for she is interested in him." + +"Interested, you say?" said D'Alençon in amazement. + +"Yes. Do you not remember, François, that it was your sister who +recommended him to you?" + +"Yes," said the duke, in a dull voice; "so I tried to be agreeable to +him. The proof of this is that, fearing his red cloak might compromise +him, I went up to his rooms and took the cloak away." + +"Oh! oh!" exclaimed Henry, "that was doubly prudent. And now I would not +bet, but I would swear, that it was he." + +"Even in court?" asked François. + +"Faith, yes," replied Henry. "He probably came to bring me some message +from Marguerite." + +"If I were sure of being upheld by your testimony," said D'Alençon, "I +would almost accuse him." + +"If you were to accuse him," replied Henry, "you understand, brother, +that I would not contradict you." + +"But the queen?" said D'Alençon. + +"Ah, yes, the queen." + +"We must know what she would do." + +"I will undertake to find out." + +"Plague it, brother! she will do wrong to lie to us, for this affair +will make a glorious reputation of bravery for the young man, and which, +cannot have cost him dear either, for he probably bought it on credit. +Furthermore, it is true that he is well able to pay back both interest +and capital." + +"Well, what can you expect?" said Henry; "in this base world one has +nothing for nothing!" + +And bowing and smiling to D'Alençon, he cautiously thrust his head into +the corridor, and making sure that no one had been listening, he hurried +rapidly away, and disappeared down the private stairway which led to the +apartments of Marguerite. + +As far as she was concerned, the Queen of Navarre was no less anxious +than her husband. The night's expedition sent against her and the +Duchesse de Nevers by the King, the Duc d'Anjou, the Duc de Guise, and +Henry, whom she had recognized, troubled her greatly. In all probability +there was nothing which could compromise her. The janitor unfastened +from the gate by La Mole and Coconnas had promised to be silent. But +four lords like those with whom two simple gentlemen, such as La Mole +and Coconnas, had coped, would not have gone out of their way by chance, +or without having had some reason for thus inconveniencing themselves. +Marguerite had returned at daybreak, having passed the rest of the +night with the Duchesse de Nevers. She had retired at once, but had been +unable to sleep, and had started at the slightest sound. + +In the midst of this anxiety she heard some one knocking at the secret +door, and being informed that the visitor was Gillonne, she gave orders +to have her admitted. + +Henry waited at the outer door. Nothing in his appearance showed the +wounded husband. His usual smile lay on his delicate lips, and not a +muscle of his face betrayed the terrible anxiety through which he had +just passed. He seemed to glance inquiringly at Marguerite to discover +if she would allow him to talk with her alone. Marguerite understood her +husband's look, and signed to Gillonne to withdraw. + +"Madame," said Henry, "I know how deeply you are attached to your +friends, and I fear I bring you bad news." + +"What is it, monsieur?" asked Marguerite. + +"One of your dearest servants is at present greatly compromised." + +"Which one?" + +"The dear Count de la Mole." + +"Monsieur le Comte de la Mole compromised! And why?" + +"Because of the affair of last night." + +In spite of her self-control Marguerite could not keep from blushing. + +But she made an effort over herself. + +"What affair?" she asked. + +"What," said Henry, "did you not hear all the noise which was made in +the Louvre?" + +"No, monsieur." + +"I congratulate you, madame," said Henry, with charming simplicity. +"This proves that you are a sound sleeper." + +"But what happened?" + +"It seems that our good mother gave an order to Monsieur de Maurevel and +six of his men to arrest me." + +"You, monsieur, you?" + +"Yes, me." + +"For what reason?" + +"Ah, who can tell the reasons of a mind as subtle as that of your +mother? I suspect the reasons, but I do not know them positively." + +"And you were not in your rooms?" + +"No; I happened not to be. You have guessed rightly, madame, I was not. +Last evening the King asked me to go out with him. But, although I was +not in my rooms, some one else was." + +"Who?" + +"It seems that it was the Count de la Mole." + +"The Count de la Mole!" exclaimed Marguerite, astonished. + +"By Heavens! what a lively little fellow this man from the provinces +is!" continued Henry. "Do you know that he wounded Maurevel and killed +two guards?" + +"Wounded Monsieur de Maurevel and killed two guards!--impossible!" + +"What! You doubt his courage, madame?" + +"No, but I say that Monsieur de la Mole could not have been in your +rooms." + +"Why not?" + +"Why, because--because"--said Marguerite, embarrassed, "because he was +elsewhere." + +"Ah! If he can prove an alibi," said Henry, "that is different; he will +tell where he was, and the matter will be settled." + +"Where was he?" said Marguerite, quickly. + +"In all probability the day will not pass without his being arrested and +questioned. But unfortunately as there are proofs"-- + +"Proofs! what proofs?" + +"The man who made this desperate defence wore a red cloak." + +"But Monsieur de la Mole is not the only one who has a red cloak--I know +another man who has one." + +"No doubt, and I too know one. But this is what will happen: if it was +not Monsieur de la Mole who was in my rooms, it must have been the other +man who wears a red cloak, like La Mole. Now, do you know who this other +man is?" + +"Heavens!" + +"There lies the danger. You, as well as myself, madame, have seen it. +Your emotion proves this. Let us now talk like two people who are +discussing the most desirable thing in the world--a throne; a most +precious gift--life. De Mouy arrested, we are ruined." + +"Yes, I understand that." + +"While Monsieur de la Mole compromises no one; at least you would not +suppose him capable of inventing a story such as, for instance, that he +was with some ladies--whom I know?" + +"Monsieur," said Marguerite, "if you fear only that, you may be easy. He +will not say it." + +"What!" said Henry, "would he remain silent if death were to be the +price of his silence?" + +"He would remain silent, monsieur." + +"You are sure of this?" + +"I am sure." + +"Then everything is for the best," said Henry, rising. + +"You are going, monsieur?" asked Marguerite, quickly. + +"Oh, my God, yes. This is all I had to say to you." + +"And you are going"-- + +"To try and get out of the trouble we have been put to by this devil of +a man in the red cloak." + +"Oh, my God! my God! the poor young man!" cried Marguerite, pitifully, +wringing her hands. + +"Really," said Henry, as he went out, "this dear Monsieur de la Mole is +a faithful servant." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXVIII. + +THE GIRDLE OF THE QUEEN MOTHER. + + +Charles entered his room, smiling and joking. But after a conversation +of ten minutes with his mother, one would have said that the latter had +given him her pallor and anger in exchange for the light-heartedness of +her son. + +"Monsieur de la Mole," said Charles, "Monsieur de la Mole! Henry and the +Duc d'Alençon must be sent for. Henry, because this young man was a +Huguenot; the Duc d'Alençon, because he is in his service." + +"Send for them if you wish, my son, but you will learn nothing. Henry +and François, I fear, are much more closely bound together than one +would suppose from appearances. To question them is to suspect them. I +think it would be better to wait for the slow but sure proof of time. If +you give the guilty ones time to breathe again, my son, if you let them +think they have escaped your vigilance, they will become bold and +triumphant, and will give you a better opportunity to punish them. Then +we shall know everything." + +Charles walked up and down, undecided, gnawing his anger, as a horse +gnaws his bit, and pressing his clinched hand to his heart, which was +consumed by his one idea. + +"No, no," said he, at length; "I will not wait. You do not know what it +is to wait, beset with suspicions as I am. Besides, every day these +courtiers become more insolent. Even last night did not two of them dare +to cope with us? If Monsieur de la Mole is innocent, very good; but I +should not be sorry to know where Monsieur de la Mole was last night, +while they were attacking my guards in the Louvre, and me in the Rue +Cloche Percée. So let the Duc d'Alençon be sent for, and afterwards +Henry. I will question them separately. You may remain, mother." + +Catharine sat down. For a determined spirit such as hers was, every +incident turned by her powerful hand would lead her to her goal, +although it might seem to be leading away from it. From every blow there +would result noise and a spark. The noise would guide, the spark give +light. + +The Duc d'Alençon entered. His previous conversation with Henry had +prepared him for this interview; therefore he was quite calm. + +His replies were very exact. Warned by his mother to remain in his own +rooms, he was completely ignorant of the events of the night. But as his +apartments opened upon the same corridor as did those of the King of +Navarre, he had at first thought he heard a sound like that of a door +being broken in, then curses, then pistol-shots. Thereupon he had +ventured to push his door partly open, and had seen a man in a red cloak +running away. + +Charles and his mother exchanged glances. + +"In a red cloak?" said the King. + +"In a red cloak," replied D'Alençon. + +"And did you have any suspicions regarding this red cloak?" + +D'Alençon rallied all his strength that he might lie as naturally as +possible. + +"At first sight," said he, "I must confess to your Majesty that I +thought I recognized the red cloak of one of my gentlemen." + +"What is the name of this gentleman?" + +"Monsieur de la Mole." + +"Why was not Monsieur de la Mole with you as his duty required him to +be?" + +"I had given him leave of absence," said the duke. + +"That is well; now you may go," said Charles. + +The Duc d'Alençon started towards the door by which he had entered. + +"Not that way," said Charles; "this way." + +And he indicated the door opening into his nurse's room. Charles did not +want François and Henry to meet. + +He did not know that they had already seen each other for an instant, +and that this instant had sufficed for the two brothers-in-law to agree +on their plans. + +At a sign from Charles, Henry entered. + +He did not wait for Charles to question him, however. + +"Sire," said he, "your Majesty has done well to send for me, for I was +just coming to demand justice of you." + +Charles frowned. + +"Yes, justice," said Henry. "I will begin by thanking your Majesty for +having taken me with you last night; for, by doing this, I now know that +you saved my life. But what had I done that an attempt should be made to +assassinate me?" + +"Not to assassinate," said Catharine, quickly, "but to arrest you." + +"Well," said Henry, "even so. What crime have I committed to merit +arrest? If I am guilty I am as much so this morning as I was last +evening. Tell me my offence, sire." + +Embarrassed as to what reply to make, Charles looked at his mother. + +"My son," said Catharine, "you receive suspicious characters." + +"Very good," said Henry, "and these suspicious characters compromise me; +is that it, madame?" + +"Yes, Henry." + +"Give me their names! Give me their names! Who are they? Let me see +them!" + +"Really," said Charles, "Henriot has the right to demand an +explanation." + +"And I do demand it!" said Henry, realizing the superiority of his +position and anxious to make the most of it. "I ask it from my good +brother Charles, and from my good mother Catharine. Since my marriage +with Marguerite have I not been a kind husband? ask Marguerite. A good +Catholic? ask my confessor. A good relative? ask those who were at the +hunt yesterday." + +"Yes, that is true, Henriot," said the King; "but what can you do? They +claim that you conspire." + +"Against whom?" + +"Against me." + +"Sire, if I had been conspiring against you, I had merely to let events +take their course, when your horse broke his knee and could not rise, or +when the furious boar turned on your Majesty." + +"Well, the devil! mother, do you know that he is right?" + +"But who was in your rooms last night?" + +"Madame," said Henry, "in times when so few dare to answer for +themselves, I should never attempt to answer for others. I left my rooms +at seven o'clock in the evening, at ten o'clock my brother Charles took +me away, and I spent the night with him. I could not be with your +Majesty and know what was going on in my rooms at the same time." + +"But," said Catharine, "it is none the less true that one of your men +killed two of his Majesty's guards and wounded Monsieur de Maurevel." + +"One of my men?" said Henry. "What man, madame? Name him." + +"Every one accuses Monsieur de la Mole." + +"Monsieur de la Mole is not in my suite, madame; Monsieur de la Mole +belongs to Monsieur d'Alençon, to whom he was recommended by your +daughter." + +"But," said Charles, "was it Monsieur de la Mole who was in your rooms, +Henriot?" + +"How can you expect me to know, sire? I can say neither yes nor no. +Monsieur de la Mole is an exceptional servant, thoroughly devoted to the +Queen of Navarre. He often brings me messages, either from Marguerite, +to whom he is grateful for having recommended him to Monsieur le Duc +d'Alençon, or from Monsieur le Duc himself. I cannot say that it was not +Monsieur de la Mole"-- + +"It was he," said Catharine. "His red cloak was recognized." + +"Has Monsieur de la Mole a red cloak, then?" + +"Yes." + +"And the man who so cleverly disposed of two of my guards and Monsieur +de Maurevel"-- + +"Had a red cloak?" asked Henry. + +"Exactly," said Charles. + +"I have nothing to say," said the Béarnais. "But in any case it seems to +me that instead of summoning me here, since I was not in my rooms, it is +Monsieur de la Mole, who, having been there, as you say, should be +questioned. But," said Henry, "I must observe one thing to your +Majesty." + +"What is that?" + +"This, that if I had seen an order signed by my King and had defended +myself instead of obeying this order, I should be guilty and should +deserve all sorts of punishment; but it was not I but some stranger whom +this order in no way concerned. There was an attempt made to arrest him +unjustly, he defended himself too well, perhaps, but he was in the +right." + +"And yet"--murmured Catharine. + +"Madame," said Henry, "was the order to arrest me?" + +"Yes," said Catharine, "and his Majesty himself signed it." + +"Was it an order to arrest any one found in my place in case I was not +there?" + +"No," said Catharine. + +"Well!" said Henry, "unless you prove that I was conspiring and that the +man who was in my rooms was conspiring with me, this man is innocent." + +Then turning to Charles IX.: + +"Sire," continued Henry, "I shall not leave the Louvre. At a simple word +from your Majesty I shall even be ready to enter any state prison you +may be pleased to suggest. But while waiting for the proof to the +contrary I have the right to call myself and I do call myself the very +faithful servant, subject, and brother of your Majesty." + +And with a dignity hitherto unknown in him, Henry bowed to Charles and +withdrew. + +"Bravo, Henriot!" said Charles, when the King of Navarre had left. + +"Bravo! because he has defeated us?" said Catharine. + +"Why should I not applaud? When we fence together and he touches me do I +not say 'bravo'? Mother, you are wrong to hate this boy as you do." + +"My son," said Catharine, pressing the hand of Charles IX., "I do not +hate him, I fear him." + +"Well, you are wrong, mother. Henriot is my friend, and as he said, had +he been conspiring against me he had only to let the wild boar alone." + +"Yes," said Catharine, "so that Monsieur le Duc d'Anjou, his personal +enemy, might be King of France." + +"Mother, whatever Henriot's motive in saving my life, the fact is that +he saved it, and, the devil! I do not want any harm to come to him. As +to Monsieur de la Mole, well, I will talk about him with my brother +D'Alençon, to whom he belongs." + +This was Charles IX.'s way of dismissing his mother, who withdrew +endeavoring to fix her suspicions. On account of his unimportance, +Monsieur de la Mole did not answer to her needs. + +Returning to her rooms, Catharine found Marguerite waiting for her. + +"Ah! ah!" said she, "is it you, my daughter? I sent for you last +evening." + +"I know it, madame, but I had gone out." + +"And this morning?" + +"This morning, madame, I have come to tell your majesty that you are +about to do a great wrong." + +"What is that?" + +"You are going to have Monsieur le Comte de la Mole arrested." + +"You are mistaken, my daughter, I am going to have no one arrested. It +is the King, not I, who gives orders for arrests." + +"Let us not quibble over the words, madame, when the circumstances are +serious. Monsieur de la Mole is going to be arrested, is he not?" + +"Very likely." + +"Accused of having been found in the chamber of the King of Navarre last +night, and of having killed two guards and wounded Monsieur de +Maurevel?" + +"Such indeed is the crime they impute to him." + +"They impute it to him wrongly, madame," said Marguerite; "Monsieur de +la Mole is not guilty." + +"Monsieur de la Mole not guilty!" said Catharine, giving a start of joy, +and thinking that what Marguerite was about to tell her would throw +light on the subject. + +"No," went on Marguerite, "he is not guilty, he cannot be so, for he was +not in the king's room." + +"Where was he, then?" + +"In my room, madame." + +"In your room?" + +"Yes, in my room." + +At this avowal from a daughter of France, Catharine felt like hurling a +withering glance at Marguerite, but she merely crossed her arms on her +lap. + +"And," said she after a moment's silence, "if Monsieur de la Mole is +arrested and questioned"-- + +"He will say where he was and with whom he was, mother," replied +Marguerite, although she felt sure of the contrary. + +"Since this is so, you are right, my daughter; Monsieur de la Mole must +not be arrested." + +Marguerite shivered. It seemed to her that there was something strange +and terrible in the way her mother uttered these words; but she had +nothing to say, for what she had come to ask for had been granted her. + +"But," said Catharine, "if it was not Monsieur de la Mole who was in the +king's room, it was some one else!" + +Marguerite was silent. + +"Do you know who it was, my daughter?" said Catharine. + +"No, mother," said Marguerite, in an unsteady voice. + +"Come, do not be half confidential." + +"I repeat, madame, that I do not know," replied Marguerite again, +growing pale in spite of herself. + +"Well, well," said Catharine, carelessly, "we shall find out. Go now, my +daughter. You may rest assured that your mother will watch over your +honor." + +Marguerite went out. + +"Ah!" murmured Catharine, "they are in league. Henry and Marguerite are +working together. While the wife is silent, the husband is blind. Ah, +you are very clever, my children, and you think yourselves very strong. +But your strength is in your union and I will break you, one after the +other. Besides, the day will come when Maurevel can speak or write, +utter a name, or spell six letters, and then we shall know everything. +Yes, but in the meantime the guilty shall be in safe-keeping. The best +thing to do would be to separate them at once." + +Thereupon Catharine set out for the apartments of her son, whom she +found holding a conference with D'Alençon. + +"Ah! ah!" exclaimed Charles IX., frowning, "is it you, mother?" + +"Why did you not say '_again_'? The word was in your mind, Charles." + +"What is in my mind belongs to me, madame," said the King, in the rough +tone he sometimes used even when speaking to Catharine. "What do you +want of me? Tell me quickly." + +"Well, you were right, my son," said Catharine to Charles, "and you, +D'Alençon, were wrong." + +"In what respect, madame?" asked both princes. + +"It was not Monsieur de la Mole who was in the apartments of the King of +Navarre." + +"Ah! ah!" cried François, growing pale. + +"Who was it, then?" asked Charles. + +"We do not know yet, but we shall know when Maurevel is able to speak. +So let us drop the subject, which will soon be explained, and return to +Monsieur de la Mole." + +"Well, what do you want of Monsieur de la Mole, mother, since he was not +in the rooms of the King of Navarre?" + +"No," said Catharine, "he was not there, but he was with--the queen." + +"With the queen!" cried Charles, bursting into a nervous laugh. + +"With the queen," murmured D'Alençon, turning as pale as death. + +"No, no," said Charles, "De Guise told me he had met Marguerite's +litter." + +"Yes," said Catharine, "she has a house in town." + +"In the Rue Cloche Percée!" cried the King. + +"Oh! oh! this is too much," said D'Alençon, driving his nails into his +breast. "And to have had him recommended to me!" + +"Ah! now that I think of it!" said the King, stopping suddenly, "it was +he who defended himself against us last night, and who hurled the silver +bowl at my head, the wretch!" + +"Oh, yes!" repeated François, "the wretch!" + +"You are right, my children," said Catharine, without appearing to +understand the feelings which incited both of her sons to speak. "You +are right, for a single indiscreet act of this gentleman might cause a +horrible scandal, and ruin a daughter of France. One moment of madness +would be enough for that." + +"Or of vanity," said François. + +"No doubt, no doubt," said Charles. "And yet we cannot bring the case +into court unless Henriot consents to appear as plaintiff." + +"My son," said Catharine, placing her hand on Charles's shoulder in such +a way as to call the King's attention to what she was about to propose, +"listen to what I say. A crime has been committed, and there may be +scandal. But this sort of offence to royalty is not punished by judges +and hangmen. If you were simple gentlemen, I should have nothing to say +to you, for you are both brave, but you are princes, you cannot cross +swords with mere country squires. Think how you can avenge yourselves as +princes." + +"The devil!" cried Charles, "you are right, mother, and I will consider +it." + +"I will help you, brother," cried François. + +"And I," said Catharine, unfastening the black silk girdle which was +wound three times about her waist, and the two tassels of which fell to +her knees. "I will retire, but I leave you this to represent me." + +And she threw the girdle at the feet of the two princes. + +"Ah! ah!" said Charles, "I understand." + +"This girdle"--said D'Alençon, picking it up. + +"Is punishment and silence," said Catharine, victorious; "but," she +added, "there would be no harm in mentioning this to Henry." + +She withdrew. + +"By Heaven!" said D'Alençon; "a good idea, and when Henry knows that his +wife has betrayed him--So," he added, turning to the King, "you will +adopt our mother's suggestion?" + +"In every detail," said Charles, not doubting but that he would drive a +thousand daggers into D'Alençon's heart. "This will annoy Marguerite, +but it will delight Henriot." + +Then, calling one of his guards, he ordered Henry summoned, but thinking +better of it: + +"No, no," said he, "I will go for him myself. Do you, D'Alençon, inform +D'Anjou and De Guise." + +Leaving his apartments, he ascended the private stairway to the second +floor, which led to Henry's chamber. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIX. + +PROJECTS OF REVENGE. + + +Henry took advantage of the respite afforded him by his well-sustained +examination to go to Madame de Sauve's. He found Orthon completely +recovered from his fainting-fit. But Orthon could tell him nothing, +except that some men had broken into the king's rooms, that the leader +had struck him with the handle of his sword, and that the blow had +stunned him. No one had troubled about Orthon. Catharine had seen that +he had fainted and had believed him to be dead. + +As he had come to himself between the departure of the queen mother and +the arrival of the captain of the guards charged with clearing up the +room, he had taken refuge in Madame de Sauve's apartments. + +Henry begged Charlotte to keep the young man until news came from De +Mouy, who would not fail to write him from his hiding-place. Then he +would send Orthon to carry his answer to De Mouy, and instead of one +devoted man he could count on two. This decided on, he returned to his +rooms and began further to consider matters, walking up and down the +while. Suddenly the door opened and the King appeared. + +"Your Majesty!" cried Henry, rising to meet him. + +"In person. Really, Henriot, you are a good fellow, and I love you more +and more." + +"Sire," said Henry, "your Majesty overwhelms me." + +"You have but one fault, Henriot." + +"What is that? The one for which your Majesty has already reproached me +several times?" said Henry. "My preferring to hunt animals rather than +birds?" + +"No, no, I am not referring to that, Henriot, I mean something else." + +"If your Majesty will explain," said Henry, who saw from the smile on +Charles's lips that the King was in a good humor, "I will try and +correct it." + +"It is this, that having such good eyes, you see no better than you do." + +"Bah!" said Henry, "can I be short-sighted, then, sire, without knowing +it?" + +"Worse than that, Henry, worse than that, you are blind." + +"Ah, indeed," said the Béarnais, "but is it not when I shut my eyes that +this happens?" + +"Well, yes!" said Charles, "you are perfectly capable of that. At all +events, I am going to open your eyes." + +"God said, 'Let there be light,' and there was light. Your Majesty is +the representative of God on earth. Therefore you can do here what God +does in heaven. Proceed; I am all attention." + +"When De Guise said last night that your wife had just passed escorted +by a gallant you would not believe it." + +"Sire," said Henry, "how could I believe that the sister of your Majesty +could commit an act of such imprudence?" + +"When he told you that your wife had gone to the Rue Cloche Percée, you +would not believe that either!" + +"How was I to suppose, sire, that a daughter of France would thus +publicly risk her reputation?" + +"When we besieged the house in the Rue Cloche Percée, and when I had a +silver bowl hurled at my shoulder, D'Anjou some orange marmalade on his +head, and De Guise a haunch of venison in the face, you saw two women +and two men, did you not?" + +"I saw nothing, sire. Does not your Majesty remember that I was +questioning the janitor?" + +"Yes, but, by Heaven, I saw"-- + +"Ah, if your Majesty saw anything, that is a different thing." + +"I saw two men and two women. Well, I know now beyond a doubt that one +of the women was Margot, and that one of the men was Monsieur de la +Mole." + +"Well," said Henry, "if Monsieur de la Mole was in the Rue Cloche +Percée, he was not here." + +"No," said Charles, "he was not here. But never mind who was here; we +shall know this as soon as that imbecile of a Maurevel is able to speak +or write. The point is that Margot is deceiving you." + +"Bah!" said Henry; "do not believe such nonsense." + +"When I tell you that you are more than near-sighted, that you are +blind, the devil! will you believe me just once, stupid? I tell you that +Margot is deceiving you, and that this evening we are going to strangle +her lover." + +Henry gave a start of surprise, and looked at his brother-in-law in +amazement. + +"Confess, Henry, that at heart you are not sorry. Margot will cry out +like a thousand Niobes; but, faith! so much the worse. I do not want you +to be made a fool of. If Condé is deceived by the Duc d'Anjou, I will +wink; Condé is my enemy. But you are my brother; more than this, you are +my friend." + +"But, sire"-- + +"And I do not want you to be annoyed, and made a fool of. You have been +a quintain long enough for all these popinjays who come from the +provinces to gather our crumbs, and court our women. Let them come, or +rather let them come again. By Heaven! you have been deceived, +Henriot,--that might happen to any one,--but I swear, you shall have +shining satisfaction, and to-morrow they shall say: In the name of a +thousand devils! it seems that King Charles loves his brother Henriot, +for last night he had Monsieur de la Mole's tongue pulled out in a most +amusing manner." + +"Is this really decided on, sire?" asked Henry. + +"Decided on, determined on, arranged. The coxcomb will have no time to +plead his cause. The expedition will consist of myself, D'Anjou, +D'Alençon, and De Guise--a king, two sons of France, and a sovereign +prince, without counting you." + +"How without counting me?" + +"Why, you are to be one of us." + +"I!" + +"Yes, you! you shall stab the fellow in a royal manner, while the rest +of us strangle him." + +"Sire," said Henry, "your kindness overpowers me; but how do you know"-- + +"Why, the devil! it seems that the fellow boasts of it. He goes +sometimes to your wife's apartments in the Louvre, sometimes to the Rue +Cloche Percée. They compose verses together. I should like to see the +stanzas that fop writes. Pastorales they are. They discuss Bion and +Moschus, and read first Daphne and then Corydon. Ah! take a good dagger +with you!" + +"Sire," said Henry, "upon reflection"-- + +"What?" + +"Your Majesty will see that I cannot join such an expedition. It seems +to me it would be inconvenient to be there in person. I am too much +interested in the affair to take any calm part in it. Your Majesty will +avenge the honor of your sister on a coxcomb who boasts of having +calumniated my wife; nothing is simpler, and Marguerite, whom I hold to +be innocent, sire, is in no way dishonored. But were I of the party, it +would be a different thing. My co-operation would convert an act of +justice into an act of revenge. It would no longer be an execution, but +an assassination. My wife would no longer be calumniated, but guilty." + +"By Heaven, Henry, as I said just now to my mother, you speak words of +wisdom. You have a devilishly quick mind." + +And Charles gazed complacently at his brother-in-law, who bowed in +return for the compliment. + +"Nevertheless," added Charles, "you are willing to be rid of this +coxcomb, are you not?" + +"Everything your Majesty does is well done," replied the King of +Navarre. + +"Well, well, let me do your work for you. You may be sure it shall not +be the worse for it." + +"I leave it to you, sire," said Henry. + +"At what time does he usually go to your wife's room?" + +"About nine o'clock." + +"And he leaves?" + +"Before I reach there, for I never see him." + +"About"-- + +"About eleven." + +"Very well. Come this evening at midnight. The deed will be done." + +Charles pressed Henry's hand cordially, and renewing his vows of +friendship, left the apartment, whistling his favorite hunting-song. + +"_Ventre saint gris!_" said the Béarnais, watching Charles, "either I am +greatly mistaken, or the queen mother is responsible for all this +deviltry. Truly, she does nothing but invent plots to make trouble +between my wife and myself. Such a pleasant household!" + +And Henry began to laugh as he was in the habit of laughing when no one +could see or hear him. + +About seven o'clock that evening a handsome young man, who had just +taken a bath, was finishing his toilet as he calmly moved about his +room, humming a little air, before a mirror in one of the rooms of the +Louvre. Near him another young man was sleeping, or rather lying on a +bed. + +The one was our friend La Mole who, unconsciously, had been the object +of so much discussion all day; the other was his companion Coconnas. + +The great storm had passed over him without his having heard the rumble +of the thunder or seen the lightning. He had returned at three o'clock +in the morning, had stayed in bed until three in the afternoon, half +asleep, half awake, building castles on that uncertain sand called the +future. Then he had risen, had spent an hour at a fashionable bath, had +dined at Maître La Hurière's, and returning to the Louvre had set +himself to finish his toilet before making his usual call on the queen. + +"And you say you have dined?" asked Coconnas, yawning. + +"Faith, yes, and I was hungry too." + +"Why did you not take me with you, selfish man?" + +"Faith, you were sleeping so soundly that I did not like to waken you. +But you shall sup with me instead. Be sure not to forget to ask Maître +La Hurière for some of that light wine from Anjou, which arrived a few +days ago." + +"Is it good?" + +"I merely tell you to ask for it." + +"Where are you going?" + +"Where am I going?" said La Mole, surprised that his friend should ask +him such a question; "I am going to pay my respects to the queen." + +"Well," said Coconnas, "if I were going to dine in our little house in +the Rue Cloche Percée, I should have what was left over from yesterday. +There is a certain wine of Alicante which is most refreshing." + +"It would be imprudent to go there, Annibal, my friend, after what +occurred last night. Besides, did we not promise that we would not go +back there alone? Hand me my cloak." + +"That is so," said Coconnas, "I had forgotten. But where the devil is +your cloak? Ah! here it is." + +"No, you have given me the black one, and it is the red one I want. The +queen likes me better in that." + +"Ah, faith," said Coconnas, searching everywhere, "look for yourself, I +cannot find it." + +"What!" said La Mole, "you cannot find it? Why, where can it be?" + +"You probably sold it." + +"Why, I have six crowns left." + +"Well, take mine." + +"Ah, yes,--a yellow cloak with a green doublet! I should look like a +popinjay!" + +"Faith, you are over-particular, so wear what you please." + +Having tossed everything topsy-turvy in his search, La Mole was +beginning to abuse the thieves who managed to enter even the Louvre, +when a page from the Duc d'Alençon appeared bringing the precious cloak +in question. + +"Ah!" cried La Mole, "here it is at last!" + +"Is this your cloak, monsieur?" said the page. "Yes; monseigneur sent +for it to decide a wager he made regarding its color." + +"Oh!" said La Mole, "I asked for it only because I was going out, but +if his highness desires to keep it longer"-- + +"No, Monsieur le Comte, he is through with it." + +The page left. La Mole fastened his cloak. + +"Well," he went on, "what have you decided to do?" + +"I do not know." + +"Shall I find you here this evening?" + +"How can I tell?" + +"Do you not know what you are going to do for two hours?" + +"I know well enough what I shall do, but I do not know what I may be +ordered to do." + +"By the Duchesse de Nevers?" + +"No, by the Duc d'Alençon." + +"As a matter of fact," said La Mole, "I have noticed for some time that +he has been friendly to you." + +"Yes," said Coconnas. + +"Then your fortune is made," said La Mole, laughing. + +"Poof!" said Coconnas. "He is only a younger brother!" + +"Oh!" said La Mole, "he is so anxious to become the elder one that +perhaps Heaven will work some miracle in his favor." + +"So you do not know where you will be this evening?" + +"No." + +"Go to the devil, then,--I mean good-by!" + +"That La Mole is a terrible fellow," thought Coconnas, "always wanting +me to tell him where I am going to be! as if I knew. Besides, I believe +I am sleepy." And he threw himself on the bed again. + +La Mole betook himself to the apartments of the queen. In the corridor +he met the Duc d'Alençon. + +"Ah! you here, Monsieur la Mole?" said the prince. + +"Yes, my lord," replied La Mole, bowing respectfully. + +"Are you going away from the Louvre?" + +"No, your highness. I am on my way to pay my respects to her Majesty the +Queen of Navarre." + +"About what time shall you leave, Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Has monseigneur any orders for me?" + +"No, not at present, but I shall want to speak to you this evening." + +"About what time?" + +"Between nine and ten." + +"I shall do myself the honor of waiting on your highness at that time." + +"Very good. I shall depend on you." + +La Mole bowed and went on. + +"There are times," said he, "when the duke is as pale as death. It is +very strange." + +He knocked at the door of the queen's apartments. Gillonne, who +apparently was expecting him, led him to Marguerite. + +The latter was occupied with some work which seemed to be wearying her +greatly. A paper covered with notes and a volume of Isocrates lay before +her. She signed to La Mole to let her finish a paragraph. Then, in a few +moments, she threw down her pen and invited the young man to sit beside +her. La Mole was radiant. Never had he been so handsome or so +light-hearted. + +"Greek!" said he, glancing at the book. "A speech of Isocrates! What are +you doing with that? Ah! and Latin on this sheet of paper! _Ad Sarmatiæ +legatos reginæ Margaritæ concio!_ So you are going to harangue these +barbarians in Latin?" + +"I must," said Marguerite, "since they do not speak French." + +"But how can you write the answer before you have the speech?" + +"A greater coquette than I would make you believe that this was +impromptu; but I cannot deceive you, my Hyacinthe: I was told the speech +in advance, and I am answering it." + +"Are these ambassadors about to arrive?" + +"Better still, they arrived this morning." + +"Does any one know it?" + +"They came incognito. Their formal arrival is planned for to-morrow +afternoon, I believe, and you will see," said Marguerite, with a little +satisfied air not wholly free from pedantry, "that what I have done this +evening is quite Ciceronian. But let us drop these important matters and +speak of what has happened to you." + +"To me?" + +"Yes." + +"What has happened to me?" + +"Ah! it is in vain you pretend to be brave, you look pale." + +"Then it is from having slept too much. I am humbly sorry for it." + +"Come, come, let us not play the braggart; I know everything." + +"Have the kindness to inform me, then, my pearl, for I know nothing." + +"Well, answer me frankly. What did the queen mother ask you?" + +"Had she something to say to me?" + +"What! Have you not seen her?" + +"No." + +"Nor King Charles?" + +"No." + +"Nor the King of Navarre?" + +"No." + +"But you have seen the Duc d'Alençon?" + +"Yes, I met him just now in the corridor." + +"What did he say to you?" + +"That he had some orders to give me between nine and ten o'clock this +evening." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Nothing else." + +"That is strange." + +"But what is strange? Tell me." + +"That nothing has been said to you." + +"What has happened?" + +"All day, unfortunately, you have been hanging over an abyss." + +"I?" + +"Yes, you." + +"Why?" + +"Well, listen. It seems that last night De Mouy was surprised in the +apartments of the King of Navarre, who was to have been arrested. De +Mouy killed three men, and escaped without anything about him having +been recognized except the famous red cloak." + +"Well?" + +"Well, this red cloak, which once deceived me, has thrown others besides +myself off the track. You have been suspected and even accused of this +triple murder. This morning they wanted to arrest, judge, and perhaps +convict you. Who knows? For in order to save yourself you would not have +told where you were, would you?" + +"Tell where I was?" cried La Mole; "compromise you, my beautiful queen? +Oh! you are right. I should have died singing, to spare your sweet eyes +one tear." + +"Alas!" said Marguerite, "my sweet eyes would have been filled with +many, many tears." + +"But what caused the great storm to subside?" + +"Guess." + +"How can I tell?" + +"There was only one way to prove that you were not in the king's room." + +"And that was"-- + +"To tell where you were." + +"Well?" + +"Well, I told." + +"Whom did you tell?" + +"My mother." + +"And Queen Catharine"-- + +"Queen Catharine knows that I love you." + +"Oh, madame! after having done so much for me, you can demand anything +from your servant. Ah, Marguerite, truly, what you did was noble and +beautiful. My life is yours, Marguerite." + +"I hope so, for I have snatched it from those who wanted to take it from +me. But now you are saved." + +"And by you!" cried the young man; "by my adored queen!" + +At that instant a sharp noise made them start. La Mole sprang back, +filled with a vague terror. Marguerite uttered a cry, and stood with her +eyes riveted on the broken glass of one of the window-panes. + +Through this window a stone the size of an egg had entered and lay on +the floor. + +La Mole saw the broken pane, and realized the cause of the noise. + +"Who dared to do this?" he cried, springing to the window. + +"One moment," said Marguerite. "It seems to me that something is tied +around the stone." + +"Yes," said La Mole, "it looks like a piece of paper." + +Marguerite went to the strange projectile and removed the thin sheet +which, folded like a narrow band, encircled the middle of the stone. + +The paper was attached to a cord, which came through the broken window. + +Marguerite unfolded the letter and read. + +"Unfortunate man!" she cried, holding out the paper to La Mole, who +stood as pale and motionless as a statue of Terror. + +With a heart filled with gloomy forebodings he read these words: + +"_They are waiting for Monsieur de la Mole, with long swords, in the +corridor leading to the apartments of Monsieur d'Alençon. Perhaps he +would prefer to escape by this window and join Monsieur de Mouy at +Mantes_"-- + +"Well!" asked La Mole, after reading it, "are these swords longer than +mine?" + +"No, but there may be ten against one." + +"Who is the friend who has sent us this note?" asked La Mole. + +Marguerite took it from the young man's hand and looked at it +attentively. + +"The King of Navarre's handwriting!" she cried. "If he warns us, the +danger is great. Flee, La Mole, flee, I beg you." + +"How?" asked La Mole. + +"By this window. Does not the note refer to it?" + +"Command, my queen, and I will leap from the window to obey you, if I +broke my head twenty times by the fall." + +"Wait, wait," said Marguerite. "It seems to me that there is a weight +attached to this cord." + +"Let us see," said La Mole. + +Both drew up the cord, and with indescribable joy saw a ladder of hair +and silk at the end of it. + +"Ah! you are saved," cried Marguerite. + +"It is a miracle of heaven!" + +"No, it is a gift from the King of Navarre." + +"But suppose it were a snare?" said La Mole. "If this ladder were to +break under me? Madame, did you not acknowledge your love for me +to-day?" + +Marguerite, whose joy had dissipated her grief, became ashy pale. + +"You are right," said she, "that is possible." + +She started to the door. + +"What are you going to do?" cried La Mole. + +"To find out if they are really waiting for you in the corridor." + +"Never! never! For their anger to fall on you?" + +"What can they do to a daughter of France? As a woman and a royal +princess I am doubly inviolable." + +The queen uttered these words with so much dignity that La Mole +understood she ran no risk, and that he must let her do as she wished. + +Marguerite put La Mole under the protection of Gillonne, leaving to him +to decide, according to circumstances, whether to run or await her +return, and started down the corridor. A side hall led to the library as +well as to several reception-rooms, and at the end led to the apartments +of the King, the queen mother, and to the small private stairway by +which one reached the apartments of the Duc d'Alençon and Henry. +Although it was scarcely nine o'clock, all the lights were extinguished, +and the corridor, except for the dim glimmer which came from the side +hall, was quite dark. The Queen of Navarre advanced boldly. When she had +gone about a third of the distance she heard whispering which sounded +mysterious and startling from an evident effort made to suppress it. It +ceased almost instantly, as if by order from some superior, and silence +was restored. The light, dim as it was, seemed to grow less. Marguerite +walked on directly into the face of the danger if danger there was. To +all appearances she was calm, although her clinched hands indicated a +violent nervous tension. As she approached, the intense silence +increased, while a shadow like that of a hand obscured the wavering and +uncertain light. + +At the point where the transverse hall crossed the main corridor a man +sprang in front of the queen, uncovered a red candlestick, and cried +out: + +"Here he is!" + +Marguerite stood face to face with her brother Charles. Behind him, a +silken cord in hand, was the Duc d'Alençon. At the rear, in the +darkness, stood two figures side by side, reflecting no light other than +that of the drawn swords which they held in their hands. Marguerite saw +everything at a glance. Making a supreme effort, she said smilingly to +Charles: + +"You mean, here _she_ is, sire!" + +Charles recoiled. The others stood motionless. + +"You, Margot!" said he. "Where are you going at this hour?" + +"At this hour!" said Marguerite. "Is it so late?" + +"I ask where you are going?" + +"To find a book of Cicero's speeches, which I think I left at our +mother's." + +"Without a light?" + +"I supposed the corridor was lighted." + +"Do you come from your own apartments?" + +"Yes." + +"What are you doing this evening?" + +"Preparing my address for the Polish ambassadors. Is there not a council +to-morrow? and does not each one have to submit his address to your +Majesty?" + +"Have you not some one helping you with this work?" + +Marguerite summoned all her strength. + +"Yes, brother," said she, "Monsieur de la Mole. He is very learned." + +"So much so," said the Duc d'Alençon, "that I asked him when he had +finished with you, sister, to come and help me, for I am not as clever +as you are." + +"And were you waiting for him?" asked Marguerite as naturally as +possible. + +"Yes," said D'Alençon, impatiently. + +"Then," said Marguerite, "I will send him to you, brother, for we have +finished my work." + +"But your book?" said Charles. + +"I will have Gillonne get it." + +The two brothers exchanged a sign. + +"Go," said Charles, "and we will continue our round." + +"Your round!" said Marguerite; "whom are you looking for?" + +"The little red man," said Charles. "Do you not know that there is a +little red man who is said to haunt the old Louvre? My brother D'Alençon +claims to have seen him, and we are looking for him." + +"Good luck to you," said Marguerite, and she turned round. Glancing +behind her, she saw the four figures gather close to the wall as if in +conference. In an instant she had reached her own door. + +"Open, Gillonne," said she, "open." + +Gillonne obeyed. + +Marguerite sprang into the room and found La Mole waiting for her, calm +and quiet, but with drawn sword. + +"Flee," said she, "flee. Do not lose a second. They are waiting for you +in the corridor to kill you." + +"You command me to do this?" said La Mole. + +"I command it. We must part in order to see each other again." + +While Marguerite had been away La Mole had made sure of the ladder at +the window. He now stepped out, but before placing his foot on the first +round he tenderly kissed the queen's hand. + +"If the ladder is a trap and I should perish, Marguerite, remember your +promise." + +"It was not a promise, La Mole, but an oath. Fear nothing. Adieu!" + +And La Mole, thus encouraged, let himself slip down the ladder. At the +same instant there was a knock at the door. + +Marguerite watched La Mole's perilous descent and did not turn away from +the window until she was sure he had reached the ground in safety. + +"Madame," said Gillonne, "madame!" + +"Well?" asked Marguerite. + +"The King is knocking at the door." + +"Open it." + +Gillonne did so. + +The four princes, impatient at waiting, no doubt, stood on the +threshold. + +Charles entered. + +Marguerite came forward, a smile on her lips. + +The King cast a rapid glance around. + +"Whom are you looking for, brother?" asked Marguerite. + +"Why," said Charles, "I am looking--I am looking--why, the devil! I am +looking for Monsieur de la Mole." + +"Monsieur de la Mole!" + +"Yes; where is he?" + +Marguerite took her brother by the hand and led him to the window. + +Just then two horsemen were seen galloping away, around the wooden +tower. One of them unfastened his white satin scarf and waved it in the +darkness, as a sign of adieu. The two men were La Mole and Orthon. + +Marguerite pointed them out to Charles. + +"Well!" said the King, "what does this mean?" + +"It means," replied Marguerite, "that Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon may put +his cord back into his pocket, and that Messieurs d'Anjou and de Guise +may sheathe their swords, for Monsieur de la Mole will not pass through +the corridor again to-night." + + + + +CHAPTER XL. + +THE ATRIDES. + + +Since his return to Paris, Henry of Anjou had not seen his mother +Catharine alone, and, as every one knows, he was her favorite son. + +This visit was not merely for the sake of etiquette, nor the carrying +out of a painful ceremony, but the accomplishment of a very sweet duty +for this son who, if he did not love his mother, was at least sure of +being tenderly loved by her. + +Catharine loved this son best either because of his bravery, his +beauty,--for besides the mother, there was the woman in Catharine,--or +because, according to some scandalous chronicles, Henry of Anjou +reminded the Florentine of a certain happy epoch of secret love. + +Catharine alone knew of the return of the Duc d'Anjou to Paris. Charles +IX. would have been ignorant of it had not chance led him to the Hôtel +de Condé just as his brother was leaving it. Charles had not expected +him until the following day, and Henry of Anjou had hoped to conceal +from him the two motives which had hastened his arrival by a day, +namely, his visit to the beautiful Marie of Clèves, princess of Condé, +and his conference with the Polish ambassadors. + +It was this last reason, of the object of which Charles was uncertain, +which the Duc d'Anjou had to explain to his mother. And the reader, +ignorant on this point as was Henry of Navarre, will profit by the +explanation. + +When the Duc d'Anjou, so long expected, entered his mother's rooms, +Catharine, usually so cold and formal, and who since the departure of +her favorite son had embraced with effusion no one but Coligny, who was +to be assassinated the following day, opened her arms to the child of +her love, and pressed him to her heart with a burst of maternal +affection most surprising in a heart already long grown cold. + +Then pushing him from her she gazed at him and again drew him into her +arms. + +"Ah, madame," said he, "since Heaven grants me the privilege of +embracing my mother in private, console me, for I am the most wretched +man alive." + +"Oh, my God! my beloved child," cried Catharine, "what has happened to +you?" + +"Nothing which you do not know, mother. I am in love. I am loved; but it +is this very love which is the cause of my unhappiness." + +"Tell me about it, my son," said Catharine. + +"Well, mother,--these ambassadors,--this departure"-- + +"Yes," said Catharine, "the ambassadors have arrived; the departure is +near at hand." + +"It need not be near at hand, mother, but my brother hastens it. He +detests me. I am in his way, and he wants to rid himself of me." + +Catharine smiled. + +"By giving you a throne, poor, unhappy crowned head!" + +"Oh, no, mother," said Henry in agony, "I do not wish to go away. I, a +son of France, brought up in the refinement of polite society, near the +best of mothers, loved by one of the dearest women in the world, must I +go among snows, to the ends of the earth, to die by inches among those +rough people who are intoxicated from morning until night, and who gauge +the capacity of their king by that of a cask, according to what he can +hold? No, mother, I do not want to go; I should die!" + +"Come, Henry," said Catharine, pressing her son's hands, "come, is that +the real reason?" + +Henry's eyes fell, as though even to his mother he did not dare to +confess what was in his heart. + +"Is there no other reason?" asked Catharine; "less romantic, but more +rational, more political?" + +"Mother, it is not my fault if this thought comes to me, and takes +stronger hold of me, perhaps, than it should; but did not you yourself +tell me that the horoscope of my brother Charles prophesied that he +would die young?" + +"Yes," said Catharine, "but a horoscope may lie, my son. Indeed, I +myself hope that all horoscopes are not true." + +"But his horoscope said this, did it not?" + +"His horoscope spoke of a quarter of a century; but it did not say +whether it referred to his life or his reign." + +"Well, mother, bring it about so that I can stay. My brother is almost +twenty-four. In one year the question will be settled." + +Catharine pondered deeply. + +"Yes," said she; "it would certainly be better if it could be so +arranged." + +"Oh, imagine my despair, mother," cried Henry, "if I were to exchange +the crown of France for that of Poland! My being tormented there with +the idea that I might be reigning in the Louvre in the midst of this +elegant and lettered court, near the best mother in the world, whose +advice would spare me half my work and fatigue, who, accustomed to +bearing, with my father, a portion of the burden of the State, would +like to bear it with me too! Ah, mother, I should have been a great +king!" + +"There! there! dear child," said Catharine, to whom this outlook had +always been a very sweet hope, "there! do not despair. Have you thought +of any way of arranging the matter?" + +"Oh, yes, certainly, and that is why I came back two or three days +before I was expected, letting my brother Charles suppose that it was on +account of Madame de Condé. Then I have been with De Lasco, the chief +ambassador. I became acquainted with him, and did all I could in that +first interview to make him hate me. I hope I have succeeded." + +"Ah, my dear child," said Catharine, "that is wrong. You must place the +interest of France above your petty dislikes." + +"Mother, in case any accident happened to my brother, would it be to the +interest of France for the Duc d'Alençon or the King of Navarre to +reign?" + +"Oh! the King of Navarre, never, never!" murmured Catharine, letting +anxiety cover her face with that veil of care which spread over it every +time this question arose. + +"Faith," continued Henry, "my brother D'Alençon is not worth much more, +and is no fonder of you." + +"Well," said Catharine, "what did Lasco say?" + +"Even Lasco hesitated when I urged him to seek an audience. Oh, if he +could write to Poland and annul this election!" + +"Folly, my son, madness! What a Diet has consecrated is sacred." + +"But, mother, could not these Poles be prevailed on to accept my brother +in my stead?" + +"It would be difficult, if not impossible," said Catharine. + +"Never mind, try, make the attempt, speak to the King, mother. Ascribe +everything to my love for Madame de Condé; say that I am mad over her, +that I am losing my mind. He saw me coming out of the prince's hôtel +with De Guise, who did everything for me a friend could do." + +"Yes, in order to help the League. You do not see this, but I do." + +"Yes, mother, yes; but meanwhile I am making use of him. Should we not +be glad when a man serves us while serving himself?" + +"And what did the King say when he met you?" + +"He apparently believed what I told him, that love alone had brought me +back to Paris." + +"But did he ask you what you did the rest of the night?" + +"Yes, mother; but I had supper at Nantouillet's, where I made a +frightful riot, so that the report of it might get abroad and deceive +the King as to where I was." + +"Then he is ignorant of your visit to Lasco?" + +"Absolutely." + +"Good, so much the better. I will try to influence him in your favor, +dear child. But you know no influence makes any impression on his coarse +nature." + +"Oh, mother, mother, what happiness if I could stay! I would love you +even more than I do now if that were possible!" + +"If you stay you will be sent to war." + +"Oh, never mind! if only I do not have to leave France." + +"You will be killed." + +"Mother, one does not die from blows; one dies from grief, from +meanness. But Charles will not let me remain; he hates me." + +"He is jealous of you, my beautiful conqueror, that is well known. Why +are you so brave and so fortunate? Why, at scarcely twenty years of age, +have you won battles like Alexander or Cæsar? But, in the meantime, do +not let your wishes be known to any one; pretend to be resigned, pay +your court to the King. To-day there is a private council to read and +discuss the speeches which are to be made at the ceremony. Act like the +King of Poland, and leave the rest to me. By the way, how about your +expedition of last night?" + +"It failed, mother. The gallant was warned and escaped by the window." + +"Well," said Catharine, "some day I shall know who this evil genius is +who upsets all my plans in this way. Meanwhile I suspect and--let him +beware!" + +"So, mother"--said the Duc d'Anjou. + +"Let me manage this affair." + +She kissed Henry tenderly on his eyes and pushed him from the room. + +Before long the princes of her household arrived at the rooms of the +queen. Charles was in a good humor, for the cleverness of his sister +Margot had pleased rather than vexed him. Moreover, he had nothing +against La Mole, and he had waited for him somewhat eagerly in the +corridor merely because it was a kind of hunt. + +D'Alençon, on the contrary, was greatly preoccupied. The repulsion he +had always felt for La Mole had turned into hate the instant he knew +that La Mole was loved by his sister. + +Marguerite possessed both a dreamy mind and a quick eye. She had to +remember as well as to watch. + +The Polish deputies had sent a copy of the speeches which they were to +make. + +Marguerite, to whom no more mention had been made of the affair of the +previous evening than as if it had never occurred, read the speeches, +and, except Charles, every one discussed what he would answer. Charles +let Marguerite reply as she pleased. As far as D'Alençon was concerned +he was very particular as to the choice of terms; but as to the +discourse of Henry of Anjou he seemed determined to attack it, and made +numerous corrections. + +This council, without being in any way decisive, had greatly embittered +the feelings of those present. + +Henry of Anjou, who had to rewrite nearly all his discourse, withdrew to +begin the task. + +Marguerite, who had not heard of the King of Navarre since the injury he +had given to her window-pane, returned to her rooms, hoping to find him +there. + +D'Alençon, who had read hesitation in the eyes of his brother of Anjou, +and who had surprised a meaning glance between him and his mother, +retired to ponder on what he regarded as a fresh plot. Charles was about +to go to his workshop to finish a boar-spear he was making for himself +when Catharine stopped him. + +The King, who suspected that he was to meet some opposition to his will, +paused and looked at his mother closely. + +"Well," he said, "what now?" + +"A final word, sire, which we forgot, and yet it is of much importance: +what day shall we decide on for the public reception?" + +"Ah, that is true," said the King, seating himself again. "Well, what +day would suit you?" + +"I thought," replied Catharine, "from your Majesty's silence and +apparent forgetfulness, that there was some deep-laid plan." + +"No," said Charles; "why so, mother?" + +"Because," added Catharine, very gently, "it seems to me, my son, that +these Poles should not see us so eager after their crown." + +"On the contrary, mother," said Charles, "it is they who are in haste. +They have come from Varsovia by forced marches. Honor for honor, +courtesy for courtesy." + +"Your Majesty may be right in one sense; I am not curious. So your idea +is that the public reception should be held soon?" + +"Faith, yes, mother; is this not your idea too?" + +"You know that my ideas are only such as can further your glory. I will +tell you, therefore, that by this haste I fear you will be accused of +profiting very quickly by this opportunity to relieve the house of +France of the burdens your brother imposes on it, but which he certainly +returns in glory and devotion." + +"Mother," said Charles, "on his departure from France I will endow my +brother so richly that no one will ever dare to think what you fear may +be said." + +"Well," said Catharine, "I surrender, since you have such a ready reply +to each of my objections. But to receive this warlike people, who judge +of the power of the states by exterior signs, you must have a +considerable array of troops, and I do not think there are enough yet +assembled in the Isle de France." + +"Pardon me, mother. I have foreseen this event, and am prepared for it. +I have recalled two battalions from Normandy and one from Guyenne; my +company of archers arrived yesterday from Brittany; the light horse, +scattered throughout Lorraine, will be in Paris in the course of the +day; and while it is supposed that I have scarcely four regiments at my +disposition, I have twenty thousand men ready to appear." + +"Ah, ah!" said Catharine, surprised. "In that case only one thing is +lacking, but that can be procured." + +"What is that?" + +"Money. I believe that you are not furnished with an over-supply." + +"On the contrary, madame, on the contrary," said Charles IX., "I have +fourteen hundred thousand crowns in the Bastille; my private estates +have yielded me during the last few days eight hundred thousand crowns, +which I have put in my cellar in the Louvre, and in case of need +Nantouillet holds three hundred thousand crowns at my disposal." + +Catharine shivered. Until then she had known Charles to be violent and +passionate, but never provident. + +"Well," said she, "your Majesty thinks of everything. That is fine; and +provided the tailors, the embroiderers, and the jewellers make haste, +your Majesty will be in a position to hold this audience within six +weeks." + +"Six weeks!" exclaimed Charles. "Mother, the tailors, the embroiderers, +and the jewellers have been at work ever since we heard of my brother's +nomination. As a matter of fact, everything could be ready to-day, but, +at the latest, it will take only three or four days." + +"Oh!" murmured Catharine; "you are in greater haste than I supposed, my +son." + +"Honor for honor, I told you." + +"Well, is it this honor done to the house of France which flatters you?" + +"Certainly." + +"And is your chief desire to see a son of France on the throne of +Poland?" + +"Exactly." + +"Then it is the event, the fact, and not the man, which is of interest +to you, and whoever reigns there"-- + +"No, no, mother, by Heaven! Let us keep to the point! The Poles have +made a good choice. They are a skilful and strong people! A military +people, a nation of soldiers, they choose a captain for their ruler. +That is logical, plague it! D'Anjou is just the man for them. The hero +of Jarnac and Montcontour fits them like a glove. Whom would you have me +send them? D'Alençon? a coward! He would give them a fine idea of the +Valois!--D'Alençon! He would run at the first bullet that whistled by +his ears, while Henry of Anjou is a fighter. Yes! his sword always in +his hand, he is ever pushing forward, on foot or horseback!--forward! +thrust! overpower! kill! Ah! my brother of Anjou is a man, a valiant +soldier, who will lead them to battle from morning until night, from one +year's end to the next. He is not a hard drinker, it is true; but he +will kill in cold blood. That is all. This dear Henry will be in his +element; there! quick! quick! to battle! Sound the trumpet and the drum! +Long live the king! Long live the conqueror! Long live the general! He +will be proclaimed _imperator_ three times a year. That will be fine for +the house of France, and for the honor of the Valois; he may be killed, +but, by Heaven, it will be a glorious death!" + +Catharine shuddered. Her eyes flashed fire. + +"Say that you wish to send Henry of Anjou away from you," she cried, +"say that you do not love your brother!" + +"Ah! ah! ah!" cried Charles, bursting into a nervous laugh, "you have +guessed, have you, that I want to send him away? You have guessed that I +do not love him? And when did you reach this conclusion? Come! Love my +brother! Why should I love him? Ah! ah! ah! Do you want to make me +laugh?" + +As he spoke, his pale cheeks grew flushed with a feverish glow. + +"Does he love me? Do you love me? Has any one, except my dogs, and Marie +Touchet, and my nurse, ever loved me? No! I do not love my brother, I +love only myself. Do you hear? And I shall not prevent my brother from +doing as I do." + +"Sire," said Catharine, growing excited on her part, "since you have +opened your heart to me I must open mine to you. You are acting like a +weak king, like an ill-advised monarch; you are sending away your second +brother, the natural support of the throne, who is in every way worthy +to succeed you if any accident happened, in which case your crown would +be left in jeopardy. As you said, D'Alençon is young, incapable, weak, +more than weak, cowardly! And the Béarnais rises up in the background, +you understand?" + +"Well, the devil!" exclaimed Charles, "what does it matter to me what +happens when I am dead? The Béarnais rises behind my brother, you say! +By Heaven! so much the better! I said that I loved no one--I was +mistaken, I love Henriot. Yes, I love this good Henriot. He has a frank +manner, a warm handshake, while I see nothing but false looks around me, +and touch, only icy hands. He is incapable of treason towards me, I +swear. Besides, I owe him amends, poor boy! His mother was poisoned by +some members of my family, I am told. Moreover, I am well. But if I were +to be taken ill, I would call him, I should want him to stay with me, I +would take nothing except from him, and when I died I would make him +King of France and of Navarre. And by Heaven! instead of laughing at my +death as my brothers would do, he would weep, or at least he would +pretend to weep." + +Had a thunderbolt fallen at Catharine's feet she would have been less +startled than at these words. She stood speechless, gazing at Charles +with haggard eyes. Then at the end of a few moments: + +"Henry of Navarre!" she cried, "Henry of Navarre King of France to the +detriment of my children! Ah! Holy Virgin! we shall see! So this is why +you wish to send away my son?" + +"Your son--and what am I, then? the son of a wolf, like Romulus?" cried +Charles, trembling with anger, his eyes shining as though they were on +fire. "Your son, you are right; the King of France is not your son, the +King of France has no brothers, the King of France has no mother, the +King of France has only subjects. The King of France has no need of +feelings, he has wishes. He can get on without being loved, but he shall +be obeyed." + +"Sire, you have misunderstood my words. I called my son the one who was +going to leave me. I love him better just now because just now he is the +one I am most afraid I shall lose. Is it a crime for a mother to wish +that her child should not leave her?" + +"And I, I tell you that he shall leave you. I tell you that he shall +leave France, that he shall go to Poland, and within two days, too, and +if you add one word he shall go to-morrow. Moreover, if you do not +smooth your brow, if you do not take that threatening look from your +eyes, I will strangle him this evening, as yesterday you yourself would +have strangled your daughter's lover. Only I shall not fail, as we +failed in regard to La Mole." + +At the first threat Catharine's head fell; but she raised it again +almost immediately. + +"Ah, poor child!" said she, "your brother would kill you. But do not +fear, your mother will protect you." + +"Ah, you defy me!" cried Charles. "Well! by the blood of Christ, he +shall die, not this evening, not soon, but this very instant. Ah, a +weapon! a dagger! a knife! Ah!" + +Having looked around in vain for what he wanted, Charles perceived the +little dagger his mother always wore at her belt, sprang toward it, +snatched it from its shagreen case encrusted with silver, and rushed +from the room to strike down Henry of Anjou wherever he might meet him. +But on reaching the hall, his strength, excited beyond human endurance, +suddenly left him. He put out his arm, dropped the sharp weapon, which +stuck point downwards into the wood, uttered a piercing cry, sank down, +and rolled over on the floor. + +At the same instant a quantity of blood spurted forth from his mouth and +nose. + +"Jesus!" said he. "They kill me! Help! help!" + +Catharine, who had followed, saw him fall. For one instant she stood +motionless, watching him. Then recollecting herself, not because of any +maternal affection, but because of the awkwardness of the situation, she +called out: + +"The King is ill! Help! help!" + +At the cry a crowd of servants, officers, and courtiers gathered around +the young King. But ahead of them all a woman rushed out, pushed aside +the others, and raised Charles, who had grown as pale as death. + +"They kill me, nurse, they kill me," murmured the King, covered with +perspiration and blood. + +"They kill you, my Charles?" cried the good woman, glancing at the group +of faces with a look which reached even Catharine. "Who kills you?" + +Charles heaved a feeble sigh, and fainted. + +"Ah!" said the physician, Ambroise Paré, who was summoned at once, "ah! +the King is very ill!" + +"Now, from necessity or compulsion," said the implacable Catharine to +herself, "he will have to grant a delay." + +Whereupon she left the King to join her second son, who was in the +oratory, anxiously waiting to hear the result of an interview which was +of such importance to him. + + + + +CHAPTER XLI. + +THE HOROSCOPE. + + +On leaving the oratory, in which she had just informed Henry all that +had occurred, Catharine found Réné in her chamber. It was the first time +that the queen and the astrologer had seen each other since the visit +the queen had made to his shop at the Pont Saint Michel. But the +previous evening she had written him, and Réné had brought the answer to +her note in person. + +"Well," said the queen, "have you seen him?" + +"Yes." + +"How is he?" + +"Somewhat better." + +"Can he speak?" + +"No, the sword traversed his larynx." + +"I told you in that case to have him write." + +"I tried. He collected all his strength, but his hand could trace only +two letters. They are almost illegible. Then he fainted. The jugular +vein was cut and the blood he lost has taken away all his strength." + +"Have you seen the letters?" + +"Here they are." + +Réné drew a paper from his pocket and handed it to Catharine, who +hastily unfolded it. + +"An _m_ and an _o_," said she. "Could it have been La Mole, and was all +that acting of Marguerite done to throw me off the track?" + +"Madame," said Réné, "if I dared to express my opinion in a matter about +which your majesty hesitates to give yours I should say that I believe +Monsieur de la Mole is too much in love to be seriously interested in +politics." + +"You think so?" + +"Yes, and above all too much in love with the Queen of Navarre to serve +the King very devotedly; for there is no real love without jealousy." + +"You think that he is very much in love, then?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"Has he been to you?" + +"Yes." + +"Did he ask you for some potion or philter?" + +"No, we kept to the wax figure." + +"Pierced to the heart?" + +"To the heart." + +"And this figure still exists?" + +"Yes." + +"Have you it?" + +"It is in my rooms." + +"It would be strange," said Catharine, "if these cabalistic preparations +really had the power attributed to them." + +"Your majesty is a better judge of that than I." + +"Is the Queen of Navarre in love with Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"She loves him enough to ruin herself for him. Yesterday she saved him +from death at the risk of her honor and her life. You see, madame, and +yet you still doubt." + +"Doubt what?" + +"Science." + +"Science also deceives me," said Catharine, looking steadily at Réné, +who bore her gaze without flinching. + +"About what?" + +"Oh! you know what I mean; unless, of course, it was the scholar and not +science." + +"I do not know what you mean, madame," replied the Florentine. + +"Réné, have your perfumes lost their odor?" + +"No, madame, not when I use them; but it is possible that in passing +through the hands of others"-- + +Catharine smiled and shook her head. + +"Your opiate has done wonders, Réné," said she; "Madame de Sauve's lips +are fresher and rosier than ever." + +"It is not my opiate that is responsible for that, madame. The Baroness +de Sauve, using the privilege of every pretty woman to be capricious, +has said nothing more to me about this opiate, and after the suggestion +from your majesty I thought it best to send her no more of it. So that +all the boxes are still in my house just as you left them, with the +exception of one which disappeared, I know not how or why." + +"That is well, Réné," said Catharine; "perhaps later we may return to +this. In the meantime, let us speak of the other matter." + +"I am all attention, madame." + +"What is necessary to gain an idea of the length of any one's life?" + +"In the first place to know the day of his birth, his age, and under +what condition he first saw light." + +"And then?" + +"To have some of his blood and a lock of his hair." + +"If I bring you some of his blood and a lock of his hair, if I tell you +the circumstance connected with his birth, the time, and his present +age, will you tell me the probable date of his death?" + +"Yes, to within a few days." + +"Very well; I have a lock of his hair and will get some of his blood." + +"Was he born during the day or night?" + +"At twenty-three minutes past five in the afternoon." + +"Be at my room at five o'clock to-morrow. The experiment must be made at +the hour of his birth." + +"Very well," said Catharine, "_we_ will be there." + +Réné bowed, and withdrew without apparently noticing the "_we_ will be +there," which, however, contrary to her usual habit, indicated that +Catharine would not go alone. + +The following morning at dawn Catharine went to her son's apartments. At +midnight she had sent to inquire after him, and had been told that +Maître Ambroise Paré was with him, ready to bleed him if the nervous +troubles continued. + +Still starting up from his sleep, and still pale from loss of blood, +Charles dozed on the shoulder of his faithful nurse, who leaning against +the bed had not moved for three hours for fear of waking her dear child. + +A slight foam appeared from time to time on the lips of the sick man, +and the nurse wiped it off with a fine embroidered linen handkerchief. +On the bed lay another handkerchief covered with great spots of blood. + +For an instant Catharine thought she would take possession of the +handkerchief; but she feared that this blood mixed with the saliva would +be weak, and would not be efficacious. She asked the nurse if the doctor +had bled her son as he had said he would do. The nurse answered "Yes" +and that the flow of blood had been so great that Charles had fainted +twice. The queen mother, who, like all princesses in those days, had +some knowledge of medicine, asked to see the blood. Nothing was easier +to do, as the physician had ordered that the blood be kept in order that +he might examine it. It was in a basin in an adjoining closet. Catharine +went in to look at it, poured some into a small bottle which she had +brought for this purpose; and then came back, hiding in her pocket her +fingers, the tips of which otherwise would have betrayed her. + +Just as she came back from the closet Charles opened his eyes and saw +his mother. Then remembering as in a dream all his bitter thoughts: + +"Ah! is it you, madame?" said he. "Well, say to your well loved son, to +your Henry of Anjou, that it shall be to-morrow." + +"My dear Charles," said Catharine, "it shall be just when you please. Be +quiet now and go to sleep." + +As if yielding to this advice Charles closed his eyes; and Catharine, +who had spoken to him as one does to calm a sick person or a child, left +the room. But when he heard the door close Charles suddenly sat up, and +in a voice still weak from suffering, said: + +"My chancellor! The seals! the court!--send for them all." + +The nurse, with gentle insistence, laid the head of the King back on her +shoulder, and in order to put him to sleep strove to rock him as she +would have done a child. + +"No, no, nurse, I cannot sleep any more. Call my attendants. I must work +this morning." + +When Charles spoke in that way he was obeyed; and even the nurse, in +spite of the privileges allowed her by her foster-child, dared not +disobey. She sent for those whom the King wanted, and the council was +planned, not for the next day, which was out of the question, but for +five days from then. + +At the hour agreed on, that is, at five o'clock, the queen mother and +the Duc d'Anjou repaired to the rooms of Réné, who, expecting their +visit, had everything ready for the mysterious seance. In the room to +the right, that is, in the chamber of sacrifices, a steel blade was +heating over a glowing brazier. From its fanciful arabesques this blade +was intended to represent the events of the destiny about which the +oracle was to be consulted. On the altar lay the Book of Fate, and +during the night, which had been very clear, Réné had studied the course +and the position of the stars. + +Henry of Anjou entered first. He wore a wig, a mask concealed his face, +and a long cloak hid his figure. His mother followed. Had she not known +beforehand that the man who had preceded her was her son she never would +have recognized him. Catharine removed her mask; the Duc d'Anjou kept +his on. + +"Did you make any observations last night?" asked Catharine. + +"Yes, madame," said Réné; "and the answer of the stars has already told +me the past. The one you wish to know about, like every one born under +the sign of the Cancer, has a warm heart and great pride. He is +powerful. He has lived nearly a quarter of a century. He has until now +had glory and wealth. Is this so, madame?" + +"Possibly," said Catharine. + +"Have you a lock of his hair, and some of his blood?" + +"Yes." + +Catharine handed to the necromancer a lock of fair hair and a small +bottle filled with blood. + +Réné took the flask, shook it thoroughly, so that the fibrine and water +would mix, and poured a large drop of it on the glowing steel. The +living liquid boiled for an instant, and then spread out into fantastic +figures. + +"Oh, madame," cried Réné, "I see him twisting in awful agony. Hear how +he groans, how he calls for help! Do you see how everything around him +becomes blood? Do you see how about his death-bed great combats are +taking place? See, here are the lances; and look, there are the swords!" + +"Will it be long before this happens?" asked Catharine, trembling from +an indescribable emotion and laying her hand on that of Henry of Anjou, +who in his eager curiosity was leaning over the brazier. + +Réné approached the altar and repeated a cabalistic prayer, putting such +energy and conviction into the act that the veins of his temples +swelled, and caused the prophetic convulsions and nervous twinges from +which the ancient priestesses suffered before their tripods, and even on +their death-beds. + +At length he rose and announced that everything was ready, took the +flask, still three-quarters full, in one hand, and in the other the lock +of hair. Then telling Catharine to open the book at random, and to read +the first words she looked at, he poured the rest of the blood on the +steel blade, and threw the hair into the brazier, pronouncing a +cabalistic sentence composed of Hebrew words which he himself did not +understand. + +Instantly the Duc d'Anjou and Catharine saw a white figure appear on the +sword like that of a corpse wrapped in his shroud. Another figure, which +seemed that of a woman, was leaning over the first. + +At the same time the hair caught fire and threw out a single flame, +clear, swift, and barbed like a fiery tongue. + +"One year," cried Réné, "scarcely one year, and this man shall die. A +woman alone shall weep for him. But no, there at the end of the sword is +another woman, with a child in her arms." + +Catharine looked at her son, and, mother though she was, seemed to ask +him who these two women were. + +But Réné had scarcely finished speaking before the steel became white +and everything gradually disappeared from its surface. Then Catharine +opened the book and read the following lines in a voice which, in spite +of her effort at control, she could not keep from shaking: + + "_'Ains a peri cil que l'on redoutoit,_ + _Plus tôt, trop tôt, si prudence n'etoit.'_"[14] + +A deep silence reigned for some moments. + +"For the one whom you know," asked Catharine, "what are the signs for +this month?" + +"As favorable as ever, madame; unless Providence interferes with his +destiny he will be fortunate. And yet"-- + +"And yet what?" + +"One of the stars in his pleiad was covered with a black cloud while I +made my observations." + +"Ah!" exclaimed Catharine, "a black cloud--there is some hope, then?" + +"Of whom are you speaking, madame?" asked the Duc d'Anjou. + +Catharine drew her son away from the light of the brazier and spoke to +him in a low tone. + +Meanwhile Réné knelt down, and in the glow of the flame poured into his +hand the last drop of blood which had remained in the bottom of the +flask. + +"Strange contradiction," said he, "which proves how little to be +depended on is the evidence of simple science practised by ordinary men! +To any one but myself, a physician, a scholar, even for Maître Ambroise +Paré, this blood would seem so pure, so healthy, so full of life and +animal spirits, that it would promise long years of life; and yet all +this vigor will soon disappear, all this life will be extinct within a +year!" + +Catharine and Henry of Anjou had turned round and were listening. + +The eyes of the prince glowed through his mask. + +"Ah!" continued Réné, "the present alone is known to ordinary mortals; +while to us the past and the future are known." + +"So," continued Catharine, "you still think he will die within the +year?" + +"As surely as we are three living persons who some day will rest in our +coffins." + +"Yet you said that the blood was pure and healthy, and that it indicated +a long life." + +"Yes, if things followed their natural course. But might not an +accident"-- + +"Ah, yes, do you hear?" said Catharine to Henry, "an accident"-- + +"Alas!" said the latter, "all the more reason for my staying." + +"Oh, think no more about that: it is not possible." + +Then turning to Réné: + +"Thanks," said the young man, disguising his voice, "thanks; take this +purse." + +"Come, _count_," said Catharine, intentionally giving her son this title +to throw Réné off the track. + +They left. + +"Oh, mother, you see," said Henry, "an accident--and if an accident +should happen, I shall not be on hand; I shall be four hundred leagues +from you"-- + +"Four hundred leagues are accomplished in eight days, my son." + +"Yes; but how do I know whether those Poles will let me come back? If I +could only wait, mother!" + +"Who knows?" said Catharine; "might not this accident of which Réné +speaks be the one which since yesterday has laid the King on a bed of +pain? Listen, return by yourself, my child. I shall go back by the +private door of the monastery of the Augustines. My suite is waiting for +me in this convent. Go, now, Henry, go, and keep from irritating your +brother in case you see him." + + + + + +CHAPTER XLII. + +CONFIDENCES. + + +The first thing the Duc d'Anjou heard on arriving at the Louvre was that +the formal reception of the ambassadors was arranged for the fifth day +from that. The tailors and the jewellers were waiting for the prince +with magnificent clothes and superb jewels which the King had ordered +for him. + +While the duke tried them on with an anger which brought the tears to +his eyes, Henry of Navarre was very gay in a magnificent collar of +emeralds, a sword with a gold handle, and a precious ring which Charles +had sent him that morning. + +D'Alençon had just received a letter and had shut himself up in his own +room to read it. + +As to Coconnas, he was searching every corner of the Louvre for his +friend. + +In fact, as may easily be imagined, he had been somewhat surprised at +not seeing La Mole return that night, and by morning had begun to feel +some anxiety. + +Consequently he had started out to find his friend. He began his search +at the Hôtel de la Belle Étoile, went from there to the Rue Cloche +Percée, from the Rue Cloche Percée to the Rue Tizon, from there to the +Pont Saint Michel, and finally from the Pont Saint Michel to the Louvre. +This search, so far as those who had been questioned were concerned, had +been carried on in a way so original and exacting (which may easily be +believed when one realizes the eccentric character of Coconnas) that it +had caused some explanations between him and three courtiers. These +explanations had ended, as was the fashion of the times, on the ground. +In these encounters Coconnas had been as conscientious as he usually was +in affairs of that kind, and had killed the first man and wounded the +two others, saying: + +"Poor La Mole, he knew Latin so well!" + +The last victim, who was the Baron de Boissey, said as he fell: + +"Oh, for the love of Heaven, Coconnas, do vary a little and at least say +that he knew Greek!" + +At last the report of the adventure in the corridor leaked out. Coconnas +was heartbroken over it; for an instant he thought that all these kings +and princes had killed his friend and thrown him into some dungeon. + +He learned that D'Alençon had been of the party; and overlooking the +majesty which surrounded a prince of the blood, he went to him and +demanded an explanation as he would have done of a simple gentleman. + +At first D'Alençon was inclined to thrust out of the door the +impertinent fellow who came and asked for an account of his actions. But +Coconnas spoke so curtly, his eyes flashed with such brightness, and the +affair of the three duels in less than twenty-four hours had raised the +Piedmontese so high, that D'Alençon reflected, and instead of yielding +to his first inclination, he answered the gentleman with a charming +smile: + +"My dear Coconnas, it is true that the King was furious at receiving a +silver bowl on his shoulder, that the Duc d'Anjou was vexed at being hit +on the head by some orange marmalade, and the Duc de Guise humiliated at +having the breath knocked out of him by a haunch of venison, and so they +were all determined to kill Monsieur de la Mole. But a friend of your +friend's turned aside the blow. The party therefore failed in their +attempt. I give you my word as prince." + +"Ah!" said Coconnas, breathing as hard as a pair of bellows. "By Heaven, +monseigneur, this is good news, and I should like to know this friend to +show him my gratitude." + +Monsieur d'Alençon made no reply, but smiled more pleasantly than he had +yet done, implying to Coconnas that this friend was none other than the +prince himself. + +"Well, monseigneur!" said Coconnas, "since you have gone so far as to +tell me the beginning of the story, crown your kindness by finishing it. +They tried to kill him, but failed, you say. Well, what happened then? I +am brave and can bear the news. Have they thrown him into some dungeon? +So much the better. It will make him more careful in future. He never +would listen to my advice; besides, we can get him out, by Heaven! Stone +does not baffle every one." + +D'Alençon shook his head. + +"The worst of all this, my brave Coconnas," said he, "is that your +friend disappeared after the affair, and no one knows where he went." + +"By Heaven!" cried the Piedmontese, again growing pale, "had he gone to +hell I should at least have known where he is." + +"Listen," said D'Alençon, who, although for different reasons, was as +anxious as Coconnas to know La Mole's whereabouts, "I will give you the +advice of a friend." + +"Give it, my lord," said Coconnas, eagerly. + +"Go to Queen Marguerite. She must know what has become of the friend you +mourn." + +"I will confess to your highness," said Coconnas, "that I had thought of +going to her, but I scarcely dared. Madame Marguerite has a way of +making me feel somewhat uncomfortable at times, and besides this, I +feared that I might find her in tears. But since your highness assures +me that La Mole is not dead and that her majesty knows where he is I +will take heart and go to her." + +"Do so, my friend," said François. "And when you find out where La Mole +is, let me know, for really I am as anxious as you are. But remember one +thing, Coconnas"-- + +"What?" + +"Do not say you have come at my suggestion, for if you do you will learn +nothing." + +"Monseigneur," said Coconnas, "since your highness recommends secrecy on +this point, I shall be as silent as a tench or as the queen mother." + +"What a kind, good, generous prince he is!" murmured Coconnas as he set +out to find the Queen of Navarre. + +Marguerite was expecting Coconnas, for the report of his despair had +reached her, and on hearing by what exploits his grief had showed itself +she almost forgave him for his somewhat rude treatment of her friend +Madame la Duchesse de Nevers, to whom he had not spoken for two or +three days, owing to some misunderstanding between them. Therefore as +soon as he was announced to the queen he was admitted. + +Coconnas entered the room, unable to overcome the constraint which he +had mentioned to D'Alençon, and which he had always felt in the presence +of the queen. It was caused more by her superior intellect than by her +rank. But Marguerite received him with a smile which at once put him at +his ease. + +"Ah, madame," said he, "give me back my friend, I beg you, or at least +tell me what has become of him, for without him I cannot live. Imagine +Euryalus without Nisus, Damon without Pythias, or Orestes without +Pylades, and pity my grief for the sake of one of the heroes I have just +mentioned, whose heart, I swear, was no more tender than mine." + +Marguerite smiled, and having made Coconnas promise not to reveal the +secret, she told him of La Mole's escape from the window. As to his +hiding-place, insistent as were the prayers of the Piedmontese, she +preserved the strictest silence. This only half satisfied Coconnas, so +he resorted to diplomatic speeches of the highest order. + +The result was that Marguerite saw clearly that the Duc d'Alençon was +partly the cause of the courtier's great desire to know what had become +of La Mole. + +"Well," said the queen, "if you must know something definite about your +friend, ask King Henry of Navarre. He alone has the right to speak. As +to me, all I can tell you is that the friend for whom you are searching +is alive, and you may believe what I say." + +"I believe one thing still more, madame," replied Coconnas; "that is, +that your beautiful eyes have not wept." + +Thereupon, thinking that there was nothing to add to a remark which had +the double advantage of expressing his thought as well as the high +opinion he had of La Mole, Coconnas withdrew, pondering on a +reconciliation with Madame de Nevers, not on her account, but in order +that he might find out from her what he had been unable to learn from +Marguerite. + +Deep griefs are abnormal conditions in which the mind shakes off the +yoke as soon as possible. The thought of leaving Marguerite had at first +broken La Mole's heart, and it was in order to save the reputation of +the queen rather than to preserve his own life that he had consented to +run away. + +Therefore, the following evening he returned to Paris to see Marguerite +from her balcony. As if instinct told her of the young man's plan, the +queen spent the whole evening at her window. The result was that the +lovers met again with the indescribable delight which accompanies +forbidden pleasures. More than this, the melancholy and romantic +temperament of La Mole found a certain charm in the situation. But a man +really in love is happy only for the time being, while he sees or is +with the woman he loves. After he has left her he suffers. Anxious to +see Marguerite again, La Mole set himself busily to work to bring about +the event which would make it possible for him to be with her; namely, +the flight of the King of Navarre. + +Marguerite on her part willingly gave herself up to the happiness of +being loved with so pure a devotion. Often she was angry with herself +for what she regarded as a weakness. Her strong mind despised the +poverty of ordinary love, insensible to the details which for tender +souls make it the sweetest, the most delicate, and the most desirable of +all pleasures. So she felt that the days, if not happily filled, were at +least happily ended. When, at about nine o'clock every evening, she +stepped out on her balcony in a white dressing-gown, she perceived in +the darkness of the quay a horseman whose hand was raised first to his +lips, then to his heart. Then a significant cough reminded the lover of +a cherished voice. Sometimes a note was thrown by a little hand, and in +the note was hidden some costly jewel, precious not on account of its +value, but because it had belonged to her who threw it; and this would +fall on the pavement a few feet from the young man. Then La Mole would +swoop down on it like a kite, press it to his heart, answer in the same +voice, while Marguerite stood at her balcony until the sound of the +horse's hoofs had died away in the darkness. The steed, ridden at full +speed when coming, on leaving seemed as if made of material as lifeless +as that of the famous horse which lost Troy. + +This was why the queen was not anxious as to the fate of La Mole. But +fearing that he might be watched and followed she persistently refused +all interviews except these clandestine ones, which began immediately +after La Mole's flight and continued every evening until the time set +for the formal reception of the ambassadors, a reception which by the +express orders of Ambroise Paré, as we have seen, was postponed for +several days. + +The evening before this reception, at about nine o'clock, when every one +in the Louvre was engaged in preparations for the following day, +Marguerite opened her window and stepped out upon her balcony. As she +did so, without waiting for her note, La Mole, in greater haste than +usual, threw his note which with his usual skill fell at the feet of his +royal mistress. + +Marguerite realized that the missive contained something special, and +retired from the balcony to read it. The note consisted of two separate +sheets. + +On the first page were these words: + +"_Madame, I must speak to the King of Navarre. The matter is urgent. I +will wait._" + +On the second page were these words: + + "_My lady and my queen, arrange so that I may give you one of the + kisses I now send you. I will wait._" + +Marguerite had scarcely finished the second part of the letter when she +heard the voice of Henry of Navarre, who with his usual caution had +knocked on the outer door, and was asking Gillonne if he might enter. + +The queen at once separated the letter, put one of the sheets in her +robe, the other in her pocket, hurriedly closed the window, and stepped +to the door. + +"Enter, sire," said she. + +Notwithstanding the fact that Marguerite had been careful to close the +window quickly and gently, the sound had reached Henry, whose acute +senses, in the midst of people he greatly mistrusted, had almost +acquired the exquisite delicacy they attain in the savage. But the King +of Navarre was not one of those tyrants who forbid their wives from +taking the air and watching the stars. + +Henry was as gracious and smiling as ever. + +"Madame," said he, "while every one is rehearsing the coming ceremonial, +I thought I would come and have a little talk with you about my affairs, +which you still regard as yours, do you not?" + +"Certainly, monsieur," replied Marguerite; "are not our interests one +and the same?" + +"Yes, madame, and that is why I wanted to ask what you thought about +Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon's avoiding me so for the last few days. The +day before yesterday he even went to Saint Germain. Does it not mean +either that he is planning to leave by himself, for he is watched very +little, or that he is not going to leave at all? Give me your opinion, +madame, if you please. I confess it will be a great relief to me to tell +you mine." + +"Your majesty is right in being anxious at my brother's silence. I have +been thinking about it all day, and my idea is that as circumstances +have changed he has changed with them." + +"You mean, do you not, that seeing King Charles ill and the Duc d'Anjou +King of Poland he would not be averse to staying in Paris to keep watch +over the crown of France?" + +"Exactly." + +"Be it so. I ask nothing better than for him to remain," said Henry; +"only that will change our entire plan. To leave without him I shall +need three times the guarantees I should have asked for had I gone with +your brother, whose name and presence in the enterprise would have been +my safeguard. But what surprises me is that I have not heard from +Monsieur de Mouy. It is not like him to stay away so long. Have you had +any news of him, madame?" + +"I, sire!" exclaimed Marguerite, in astonishment; "why, how could you +expect"-- + +"Why, by Heaven, my dear, nothing would be more natural. In order to +please me, you were kind enough to save the life of young La Mole,--he +must have reached Nantes,--and if one can get to a place he can easily +get away from it." + +"Ah! this explains an enigma, the answer to which I could not make out," +said Marguerite. "I had left my window open, and found, on coming back +to my room, a note on my floor." + +"There now," said Henry. + +"A note which at first I could not understand, and to which I attached +no importance whatsoever," continued Marguerite. "Perhaps I was wrong, +and that it comes from that quarter." + +"That is possible," said Henry; "I might even say probable. Might I see +this note?" + +"Certainly, sire," replied Marguerite, handing to the king the missive +she had put into her pocket. The king glanced at it. + +"Is it not Monsieur de la Mole's handwriting?" said he. + +"I do not know," replied Marguerite. "It looks to me like a +counterfeit." + +"No matter, let us read it." And he read: + +"_Madame, I must speak to the King of Navarre. The matter is urgent. I +will wait._" + +"So!" said Henry--"you see, he says he will wait." + +"Certainly I see that," said Marguerite. "But what would you expect?" + +"Why! _ventre saint gris!_ I expect that he is waiting!" + +"That he is waiting!" cried Marguerite, looking at her husband in +astonishment. "How can you say such a thing, sire? A man whom the King +tried to kill--a man who is watched, threatened--waiting, you say! Would +that be possible?--are the doors made for those who have been"-- + +"Obliged to escape by the window--you were going to say?" + +"Yes, you have finished my sentence." + +"Well, but if they know the way by the window, let them take it, since +it is perfectly impossible for them to enter by the door. It is very +simple." + +"Do you think so?" said Marguerite, flushing with pleasure at the +thought of again being near La Mole. + +"I am sure of it." + +"But how could one reach the window?" asked the queen. + +"Did you not keep the rope ladder I sent you? Where is your usual +foresight?" + +"Yes, sire, I kept it," said Marguerite. + +"In that case there will be no difficulty," said Henry. + +"What does your majesty wish?" + +"Why, it is very simple," said Henry. "Fasten it to your balcony and let +it hang down. If it is De Mouy who is waiting and he wants to mount it, +he will do so." + +Without losing his gravity Henry took the candle to aid Marguerite in +her search for the ladder. They did not have to look long; it was in a +wardrobe in the famous closet. + +"There it is," said Henry; "now, madame, if I am not asking too much, +fasten it to the balcony, I beg you." + +"Why should I fasten it and not you, sire?" said Marguerite. + +"Because the best conspirators are the most careful. Seeing a man might +perhaps frighten away our friend, you see." Marguerite smiled and tied +the ladder. + +"There," said Henry, concealing himself in a corner of the room, "stand +so he can see you; now drop the ladder; good! I am sure that De Mouy +will climb up." + +In fact, about ten minutes later a man, mad with joy, stepped over the +balcony, but seeing that the queen did not come to him, he hesitated a +moment. Instead of Marguerite it was Henry who stepped forward. + +"Ah!" said he, graciously, "it is not De Mouy, but Monsieur de la Mole. +Good evening, Monsieur de la Mole. Come in, I beg you." + +La Mole paused a moment, overwhelmed. Had he still been on the ladder +instead of on the balcony he might possibly have fallen backward. + +"You wanted to speak to the King of Navarre on matters of importance," +said Marguerite. "I have told him so and here he is." + +Henry closed the window. + +"I love you," said Marguerite, hastily pressing the young man's hand. + +"Well, monsieur," said Henry, placing a chair for La Mole, "what is it?" + +"This, sire," replied La Mole. "I have left Monsieur de Mouy at the city +gates. He desires to know if Maurevel has spoken, and if his presence in +your majesty's room is known." + +"Not yet, but it will be before long; so we must make haste." + +"That is my opinion, sire, and if to-morrow evening Monsieur d'Alençon +is ready to start, De Mouy will be at the Porte Saint Marcel with five +hundred men. These will take you to Fontainebleau. Then you can easily +reach Blois, Angoulême, and Bordeaux." + +"Madame," said Henry, turning to his wife, "I can be ready by to-morrow; +can you?" + +La Mole's eyes were anxiously fixed on those of Marguerite. + +"You have my promise," said the queen. "Wherever you go, I will follow. +But you know Monsieur d'Alençon must leave at the same time. No half way +with him; either he serves us or he betrays us. If he hesitates we do +not stir." + +"Does he know anything of this plan, Monsieur de la Mole?" asked Henry. + +"He should have received a letter from Monsieur de Mouy several days +ago." + +"Why," said Henry, "he said nothing to me about it!" + +"Be careful, monsieur," said Marguerite, "be careful." + +"I shall be on my guard, you may be sure. How can we get an answer to De +Mouy?" + +"Do not worry, sire. On the right, on the left, of your majesty, visible +or invisible, he will be on hand to-morrow during the reception of the +ambassadors. One word in the address of the queen will suffice for him +to understand whether you consent or not, whether he must leave or wait +for you. If the Duc d'Alençon refuses, he asks but a fortnight to +reorganize everything in your name." + +"Really," said Henry, "De Mouy is invaluable. Can you insert the +necessary words in your address, madame?" + +"Nothing will be easier," replied Marguerite. + +"Then I will see Monsieur d'Alençon to-morrow," said Henry. "Let de Mouy +be at his post ready to understand at a word." + +"He will be there, sire." + +"And, Monsieur de la Mole," said Henry, "take my answer to him. You +probably have a horse or a servant near by?" + +"Orthon is waiting for me at the quay." + +"Go back to him, monsieur. Oh, no, not by the window, which is good only +for an emergency. You might be seen, and as it would not be known that +you had taken this risk for me, it might compromise the queen." + +"How shall I leave, sire?" + +"Although you may not be able to enter the Louvre by yourself, you can +at least leave it with me, for I have the password. You have your cloak, +I have mine; we will put them on and can pass the gate without +difficulty. Besides, I shall be glad to give some special orders to +Orthon. Wait here while I go and see if there is any one in the +corridor." + +With the most natural air possible Henry went out to investigate. La +Mole was left alone with the queen. + +"Ah! when shall I see you again?" said he. + +"To-morrow evening, if we leave. Otherwise some evening soon in the Rue +Cloche Percée." + +"Monsieur de la Mole," said Henry, returning, "you can come; there is no +one here." + +La Mole bowed respectfully to the queen. + +"Give him your hand to kiss, madame," said Henry; "Monsieur de la Mole +is no ordinary servitor." + +Marguerite obeyed. + +"By the way," said Henry, "be sure and keep the rope ladder. It is a +valuable instrument for conspirators; and when we least expect it we may +need it. Come, Monsieur de la Mole." + + + + +CHAPTER XLIII. + +THE AMBASSADORS. + + +The following day the entire population of Paris rushed towards the +Faubourg Saint Antoine, by which it had been decided that the Polish +ambassadors were to enter. A line of Swiss restrained the crowd, and a +regiment of horse protected the lords and the ladies of the court who +rode ahead of the procession. + +Soon, near the Abbey Saint Antoine, a troop of cavaliers appeared, +dressed in red and yellow, with caps and furred mantles, and carrying +long curved sabres like Turkish cimeters. + +The officers rode at the side of the lines. + +Behind this troop came a second, clothed with Oriental magnificence. +They preceded the ambassadors, who, four in number, represented in a +gorgeous manner the most mythological of the chivalrous kingdoms of the +sixteenth century. + +One of the ambassadors was the Bishop of Cracow. His costume was half +ecclesiastical, half military, resplendent with gold and precious +stones. + +His white horse, with long mane and tail, walked with proud step and +seemed to breathe out fire from his nostrils. No one would have supposed +that for a month the noble animal had made fifteen leagues daily over +roads which the weather had rendered almost impassable. + +Beside the bishop rode the Palatine Lasco, a powerful noble, closely +related to the royal family, as rich as a king and as proud. + +Behind these two chief ambassadors, who were accompanied by two other +palatines of high rank, came a number of Polish lords, whose horses in +their harness of silk, studded with gold and precious stones, excited +the applause of the people. The French horsemen, in spite of their rich +apparel, were completely eclipsed by the newcomers, whom they scornfully +called barbarians. + +Up to the last moment Catharine had hoped the reception would be +postponed on account of the King's illness. But when the day came, and +she saw Charles, as pale as a corpse, put on the gorgeous royal mantle, +she realized that apparently at least she must yield to his iron will, +and began to believe that after all the safest plan for Henry of Anjou +was to accept the magnificent exile to which he was condemned. With the +exception of the few words he had uttered when he opened his eyes as his +mother came out of the closet, Charles had not spoken to Catharine +since the scene which had brought about the illness to which he had +succumbed. Every one in the Louvre knew that there had been a dreadful +altercation between mother and son, but no one knew the cause of it, and +the boldest trembled before that coldness and silence, as birds tremble +before the calm which precedes a storm. + +Everything had been prepared in the Louvre, not as though there were to +be a reception, but as if some funeral ceremony were to occur. Every one +had obeyed orders in a gloomy or passive manner. It was known that +Catharine had almost trembled, and consequently every one else trembled. + +The large reception-hall of the palace had been prepared, and as such +ceremonies were usually public, the guards and the sentinels had +received orders to admit with the ambassadors as many people as the +apartments and the courts would hold. As for Paris, it presented the +same aspect that every large city presents under similar circumstances; +that is, confusion and curiosity. But had any one looked closely at the +population that day, he would have noticed, among the groups of honest +bourgeois with smiling faces, a considerable number of men in long +cloaks, who exchanged glances and signs when at a distance, and when +they met, a few rapid words in a low tone. These men seemed greatly +occupied with the procession, followed it closely, and appeared to +receive their orders from an old man, whose sharp black eyes, in spite +of his white beard and grayish eyebrows, showed a vigorous activity. +This old man, either by his own efforts or by those of his companions, +was among the first to gain admission to the Louvre, and, thanks to the +kindness of the Swiss guard, succeeded in finding a place behind the +ambassadors, opposite Marguerite and Henry of Navarre. + +Henry, informed by La Mole that De Mouy would be present in some +disguise or other, looked round on all sides. At last his eyes +encountered those of the old man and held them. + +A sign from De Mouy had dispelled all doubt. He was so changed that +Henry himself was doubtful whether this old man with the white beard +could be the intrepid Huguenot chief who five or six days before had +made so desperate a defence. + +A word from Henry whispered into Marguerite's ear called the attention +of the queen to De Mouy. Then her beautiful eyes wandered around the +great hall in search of La Mole; but in vain--La Mole was not there. + +The speeches began. The first was to the King. Lasco, in the name of the +Diet, asked him to consent that the crown of Poland be offered to a +prince of the house of France. + +Charles's reply was short and to the point. He presented his brother, +the Duc d'Anjou, whose courage he praised highly to the Polish +ambassadors. He spoke in French, and an interpreter translated his reply +at the end of each sentence. While the interpreter was speaking, the +King was seen applying a handkerchief to his lips, and each time he +removed it, it was covered with blood. When Charles's reply was +finished, Lasco turned to the Duc d'Anjou, bowed, and began a Latin +address, in which he offered him the throne in the name of the Polish +nation. + +The duke replied in the same language, and in a voice he strove in vain +to render firm, that he accepted with gratitude the honor which was +offered to him. While he spoke, Charles remained standing, with lips +compressed, and fixed on him eyes as calm and threatening as those of an +eagle. + +When the duke had finished, Lasco took the crown of the Jagellos from +the red velvet cushion on which it rested, and while two Polish nobles +placed the royal mantle on the duke, he laid the crown in Charles's +hands. + +Charles signed to his brother, the Duc d'Anjou knelt down before him, +and with his own hand the King placed the crown on his brother's head. +Then the two kings exchanged one of the most bitter kisses ever +exchanged between two brothers. + +At once a herald cried: + +"Alexander Edward Henry of France, Duc d'Anjou, is crowned King of +Poland. Long live the King of Poland!" + +The entire assembly repeated the cry: "Long live the King of Poland!" +Then Lasco turned to Marguerite. The discourse of the beautiful queen +had been reserved for the last. Now, as it was a compliment accorded her +in order to display her brilliant talents, as they were called, every +one paid great attention to the reply, which was in Latin, and which, as +we have said, Marguerite had composed herself. Lascos's address was more +of a eulogy than an address. He had yielded, Sarmatian that he was, to +the admiration which the beautiful queen of Navarre inspired in every +one. He had borrowed his language from Ovid; his style was that of +Ronsard. He said that having left Varsovia in the middle of a very dark +night, neither he nor his companions would have been able to find their +way, had they not, like the Magi, been guided by two stars which became +more and more brilliant as they drew nearer to France, and which now +they recognized as the two beautiful eyes of the Queen of Navarre. +Finally, passing from the Gospel to the Koran, from Syria to Arabia, +from Nazareth to Mecca, he concluded by saying that he was quite +prepared to do what the ardent votaries of the prophet did. When they +were fortunate enough to see his tomb, they put out their eyes, feeling +that after they had looked at such a sight, nothing in the world was +worth being admired. + +This address was loudly applauded by those who understood Latin because +they were of the same opinion as the orator, and by those who did not +understand it because they wished to appear as though they did. + +Marguerite made a gracious courtesy to the gallant Sarmatian; then +fixing her eyes on De Mouy, began her reply in these words: + + "_Quod nunc hac in aulâ insperati adestis exultaremus, ego et + conjux, nisi ideo immineret calamitas, scilicet non solum fratris + sed etiam amici orbitas._"[15] + +These words had a double meaning, and, while intended for De Mouy, were +apparently addressed to Henry of Anjou. The latter, therefore, bowed in +token of gratitude. + +Charles did not remember having read this sentence in the address which +had been submitted to him some days before; but he attached no +importance to Marguerite's words, which he knew were merely +conventional. Besides, he understood Latin very imperfectly. + +Marguerite continued: + + "_Adeo dolemur a te dividi ut tecum proficisci maluissemus. Sed + idem fatum quo nunc sine ullâ morâ Lutetiâ cedere juberis, hac in + urbe detinet. Proficiscere ergo, frater; proficiscere, amice; + proficiscere sine nobis; proficiscentem sequuntur spes et desideria + nostra._"[16] + +It may easily be imagined that De Mouy listened with the closest +attention to these words which, although addressed to the ambassadors, +were intended for him alone. Two or three times Henry had glanced +indifferently over his shoulder to intimate to the young Huguenot that +D'Alençon had refused; but the act, which appeared involuntary, would +have been insufficient for De Mouy, had not Marguerite's words confirmed +it. + +While looking at Marguerite and listening with his whole soul, his +piercing black eyes beneath their gray brows struck Catharine, who +started as if she had had a shock of electricity, and who did not remove +her eyes from him. + +"What a strange face!" thought she, continuing to change her expression +according as the ceremony required it. "Who is this man who watches +Marguerite so attentively and whom Marguerite and Henry on their part +look at so earnestly?" + +The Queen of Navarre went on with her address, which from that point was +a reply to the courtesies of the Polish ambassador. While Catharine was +racking her brain to discover the name of this fine old man the master +of ceremonies came up behind her and handed her a perfumed satin bag +containing a folded paper. She opened the bag, drew out the paper, and +read these words: + + "_By the aid of a cordial which I have just administered to him + Maurevel has somewhat recovered his strength, and has succeeded in + writing the name of the man who was in the apartment of the King of + Navarre. This man was Monsieur de Mouy._" + +"De Mouy!" thought the queen; "well, I felt it was he. But this old +man--ah! _cospetto!_--this old man is"-- + +She leaned toward the captain of the guard. + +"Look, Monsieur de Nancey," said she, "but without attracting attention; +look at Lasco who is speaking. Behind him--do you see the old man with +the white beard, in the black velvet suit?" + +"Yes, madame," replied the captain. + +"Well, do not lose sight of him." + +"The one to whom the King of Navarre made a sign just now?" + +"Exactly. Station yourself at the door of the Louvre with ten men, and +when he comes out invite him in the King's name to dinner. If he +accepts, take him into some room in which you must keep him a prisoner. +If he resists, seize him, dead or alive." + +Fortunately Henry, who had been paying but little attention to +Marguerite's address, was looking at Catharine, and had not lost a +single expression of her face. Seeing the eyes of the queen mother fixed +so earnestly on De Mouy, he grew uneasy; when he saw her give an order +to the captain of the guard he comprehended everything. + +It was at this moment that he made the sign which had surprised Monsieur +de Nancey, and which meant, "You are discovered, save yourself!" + +De Mouy understood this gesture, which was a fitting climax to the +portion of Marguerite's address intended for him. He did not delay an +instant, but mingled with the crowd and disappeared. + +Henry, however, was not easy until Monsieur de Nancey had returned to +Catharine, and he saw from the frown on the queen mother's face that the +captain had not been in time. + +The audience was over. Marguerite exchanged a few unofficial words with +Lasco. + +The King staggered to his feet, bowed, and went out, leaning on the arm +of Ambroise Paré, who had not left him since his illness. + +Catharine, pale with anger, and Henry, silent from disappointment, +followed. + +As to the Duc d'Alençon, he had scarcely been noticed during the +ceremony, and not once had Charles, whose eyes had not left the Duc +d'Anjou, glanced at him. + +The new King of Poland felt himself lost. Far from his mother, carried +away by those barbarians of the north, he was like Antæus, the son of +Terra, who lost his strength when lifted in the arms of Hercules. Once +beyond the frontier the Duc d'Anjou felt that he was forever excluded +from the throne of France. + +Instead of following the King he retired to his mother's apartments. + +He found her no less gloomy and preoccupied than himself, for she was +thinking of that fine mocking face she had not lost sight of during the +ceremony, of the Béarnais for whom destiny had seemed to make way, +sweeping aside kings, royal assassins, enemies, and obstacles. + +Seeing her beloved son pale beneath his crown, and bent under his royal +mantle, clasping his beautiful hands in silence, and holding them out to +her piteously, Catharine rose and went to him. + +"Oh, mother," cried the King of Poland, "I am condemned to die in +exile!" + +"My son," said Catharine, "have you so soon forgotten Réné's prediction? +Do not worry, you will not have to stay there long." + +"Mother, I entreat you," said the Duc d'Anjou, "if there is the +slightest hint, or the least suspicion, that the throne of France is to +be vacant, send me word." + +"Do not worry, my son," said Catharine. "Until the day for which both of +us are waiting, there shall always be a horse saddled in my stable, and +in my antechamber a courier ready to set out for Poland." + + + + + +CHAPTER XLIV. + +ORESTES AND PYLADES. + + +Henry of Anjou having departed, peace and happiness seemed to have +returned to the Louvre, among this family of the Atrides. + +Charles, forgetting his melancholy, recovered his vigorous health, +hunting with Henry, and on days when this was not possible discussing +hunting affairs with him, and reproaching him for only one thing, his +indifference to hawking, declaring that he would be faultless if he knew +how to snare falcons, gerfalcons, and hawks as well as he knew how to +hunt brocks and hounds. + +Catharine had become a good mother again. Gentle to Charles and +D'Alençon, affectionate to Henry and Marguerite, gracious to Madame de +Nevers and Madame de Sauve; and under the pretext that it was in +obedience to an order from her that he had been wounded, she carried her +amiabilities so far as to visit Maurevel twice during his convalescence, +in his house in the Rue de la Cerisaie. + +Marguerite continued to carry on her love affair after the Spanish +fashion. + +Every evening she opened her window and by gestures and notes kept up +her correspondence with La Mole, while in each of his letters the young +man reminded his lovely queen of her promise of a few moments in the Rue +Cloche Percée as a reward for his exile. + +Only one person was lonely and unhappy in the now calm and peaceful +Louvre. + +This was our friend Count Annibal de Coconnas. + +It was certainly something to know that La Mole was alive; it was much +to be the favorite of Madame de Nevers, the most charming and the most +whimsical of women. But all the pleasure of a meeting granted him by the +beautiful duchess, all the consolation offered by Marguerite as to the +fate of their common friend, did not compensate in the eyes of the +Piedmontese for one hour spent with La Mole at their friend La Hurière's +before a bottle of light wine, or for one of those midnight rambles +through that part of Paris in which an honest man ran the risk of +receiving rents in his flesh, his purse, or his clothes. + +To the shame of humanity it must be said that Madame de Nevers bore with +impatience her rivalry with La Mole. + +It was not that she hated the Provincial; on the contrary, carried away +by the irresistible instinct which, in spite of herself, makes every +woman a coquette with another woman's lover, especially when that woman +is her friend, she had not spared La Mole the flashes of her emerald +eyes, and Coconnas might have envied the frank handclasps and the +amiable acts done by the duchess in favor of his friend during those +days in which the star of the Piedmontese seemed growing dim in the sky +of his beautiful mistress; but Coconnas, who would have strangled +fifteen persons for a single glance from his lady, was so little jealous +of La Mole that he had often after some indiscretions of the duchess +whispered certain offers which had made the man from the Provinces +blush. + +At this stage of affairs it happened that Henriette, who by the absence +of La Mole was deprived of all the enjoyment she had had from the +company of Coconnas, that is, his never-ending flow of spirits and fun, +came to Marguerite one day to beg her to do her this three-fold favor +without which the heart and the mind of Coconnas seemed to be slipping +away day by day. + +Marguerite, always sympathetic and, besides, influenced by the prayers +of La Mole and the wishes of her own heart, arranged a meeting with +Henriette for the next day in the house with the double entrance, in +order to discuss these matters thoroughly and uninterruptedly. + +Coconnas received with rather bad grace the note from Henriette, asking +him to be in the Rue Tizon at half-past nine. + +Nevertheless he went to the place appointed, where he found Henriette, +who was provoked at having arrived first. + +"Fie, Monsieur!" she cried, "it is very bad to make--I will not say a +princess--but a lady--wait in this way." + +"Wait?" said Coconnas, "what an idea! I'll wager, on the contrary, that +we are ahead of time." + +"I was." + +"Well! and I too; it cannot be more than ten o'clock at the latest." + +"Well! my note said half-past nine." + +"Therefore I left the Louvre at nine o'clock. I am in the service of +Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon, be it said in passing, and for this reason I +shall be obliged to leave you in an hour." + +"Which pleases you, no doubt?" + +"No, indeed! considering the fact that Monsieur d'Alençon is an +ill-tempered and capricious master; moreover, if I am to be found fault +with, I prefer to have it done by pretty lips like yours rather than by +such sullen ones as his." + +"Ah!" said the duchess, "that is a little better. You say, then, that +you left the Louvre at nine o'clock." + +"Yes, and with every idea of coming directly here, when at the corner of +the Rue de Grenelle I saw a man who looked like La Mole." + +"Good! La Mole again." + +"Always, with or without permission." + +"Brutal man!" + +"Ah!" said Coconnas, "we are going to begin our complimentary speeches +again." + +"Not at all; but finish your story." + +"I was not the one who wanted to tell it. It was you who asked me why I +was late." + +"Yes; was it my place to arrive first?" + +"Well, you are not looking for any one." + +"You are growing tiresome, my dear friend; but go on. At the corner of +the Rue de Grenelle you saw a man who looked like La Mole--But what is +that on your doublet--blood?" + +"Yes, and here is more which was probably sprinkled over me as he fell." + +"You had a fight?" + +"I should think so." + +"On account of your La Mole?" + +"On whose account do you think I would fight? For a woman?" + +"I thank you!" + +"So I followed this man who had the impudence to look like my friend. I +joined him in the Rue Coquillière, I overtook him, and stared into his +face under the light from a shop. But it was not La Mole." + +"Good! that was well done." + +"Yes, but he did not think so. 'Monsieur,' said I to him, 'you are an +ass to take it upon yourself to resemble from afar my friend Monsieur de +la Mole, who is an accomplished cavalier; while on nearer view one can +easily perceive that you are nothing but a vagrant.' Whereupon he drew +his sword, and I mine. At the third pass he fell down, sprinkling me +with his blood." + +"But you assisted him at least?" + +"I was about to do so when a horseman rode by. Ah! this time, duchess, I +was sure that it was La Mole. Unfortunately he was galloping. I ran +after him as hard as I could, and those who collected around to see the +fight ran behind me. Now as I might easily have been mistaken for a +thief, followed as I was by all that rabble shouting at my heels, I was +obliged to turn back to scatter them, which made me lose a little time. +In the meanwhile the rider disappeared; I followed, inquired of every +one, gave the color of the horse; but it was useless; no one had noticed +him. At last, tired out from the chase, I came here." + +"Tired of the chase!" said the duchess. "How flattering you are!" + +"Listen, dear friend," said Coconnas, turning nonchalantly in his chair. +"You are going to bother me again on account of poor La Mole. Now, you +are wrong, for friendship, you see,--I wish I had his wit or knowledge, +I would then find some comparison which would make you understand how I +feel--friendship, you see, is a star, while love--love--wait! I have +it!--love is only a candle. You will tell me there are several +varieties"-- + +"Of love?" + +"No! of candles, and that some are better than others. The rose, for +instance, is the best; but rose as it is, the candle burns out, while +the star shines forever. You will answer this by saying that when the +candle is burned out, another is put in its place." + +"Monsieur de Coconnas, you are a goose." + +"Indeed!" + +"Monsieur de Coconnas, you are impertinent." + +"Ah?" + +"Monsieur de Coconnas, you are a scoundrel." + +"Madame, I warn you that you will make me trebly regret La Mole." + +"You no longer love me." + +"On the contrary, duchess, you do not know it, but I idolize you. But I +can love and cherish and idolize you, and yet in my spare moments praise +my friend." + +"So you call the time spent with me spare moments, do you?" + +"What can you expect? Poor La Mole is constantly in my thoughts." + +"You prefer him to me; that is shameful! and I detest you, Annibal! Why +not be frank, and tell me you prefer him to me? Annibal, I warn you of +one thing: if you prefer anything in the world to me"-- + +"Henriette, the loveliest of duchesses! For your own peace of mind, +believe me, do not ask such unwise questions. I love you more than any +woman, and I love La Mole more than any man." + +"Well answered!" said a strange voice suddenly. A damask curtain was +raised in front of a great panel, which, sliding back into the wall, +opened a passage between the two rooms, and showed La Mole in the +doorway, like one of Titian's fine portraits in its gilded frame. + +"La Mole!" exclaimed Coconnas, without paying any attention to +Marguerite or taking the time to thank her for the surprise she had +arranged for him; "La Mole, my friend, my dear La Mole!" and he rushed +into the arms of his friend, upsetting the armchair in which he had been +sitting and the table that stood in his way. + +La Mole returned his embrace with effusion; then, turning to the +Duchesse de Nevers: + +"Pardon me, madame, if the mention of my name has sometimes disturbed +your happiness." "Certainly," he added, glancing at Marguerite with a +look of ineffable tenderness, "it has not been my fault that I have not +seen you sooner." + +"You see, Henriette," said Marguerite, "I have kept my word; here he +is!" + +"Is it, then, to the prayers of Madame la Duchesse that I owe this +happiness?" asked La Mole. + +"To her prayers alone," replied Marguerite. + +Then, turning to La Mole, she continued: + +"La Mole, I will allow you not to believe one word of what I say." + +Meanwhile Coconnas pressed his friend to his heart over and over again, +walked round him a dozen times, and even held a candelabrum to his face +the better to see him; then suddenly turning, he knelt down before +Marguerite and kissed the hem of her robe. + +"Ah! that is pleasant!" said the Duchesse de Nevers. "I suppose now you +will find me bearable." + +"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas, "I shall find you as adorable as ever; only +now I can tell you so with a lighter heart, and were there any number of +Poles, Sarmatians, and other hyperborean barbarians present I should +make them all admit that you were the queen of beauties." + +"Gently, gently, Coconnas," said La Mole, "Madame Marguerite is here!" + +"Oh! I cannot help that," cried Coconnas, with the half-comic air which +belonged to him alone, "I still assert that Madame Henriette is the +queen of beauties and Madame Marguerite is the beauty of queens." + +But whatever he might say or do, the Piedmontese, completely carried +away by the joy of having found his dear La Mole, had neither eyes nor +ears for any one but him. + +"Come, my beautiful queen," said Madame de Nevers, "come, let us leave +these dear friends to chat awhile alone. They have a thousand things to +say to each other which would be interrupted by our conversation. It is +hard for us, but it is the only way, I am sure, to make Monsieur Annibal +perfectly sane. Do this for me, my queen! since I am foolish enough to +love this worthless fellow, as his friend La Mole calls him." + +Marguerite whispered a few words to La Mole, who, anxious as he had been +to see his friend, would have been glad had the affection of Coconnas +for him been less exacting. Meanwhile Coconnas was endeavoring to bring +back a smile and a gentle word to Henriette's lips, a result which was +easily attained. Then the two women passed into the next room, where +supper was awaiting them. + +The young men were alone. The first questions Coconnas asked his friend +were about that fatal evening which had almost cost him his life. As La +Mole proceeded in his story the Piedmontese, who, however, was not +easily moved, trembled in every limb. + +"But why," said he, "instead of running about the country as you have +done, and causing me such uneasiness, did you not seek refuge with our +master? The duke who had defended you would have hidden you. I should +have been near you and my grief, although feigned, would nevertheless +have disturbed every simpleton at court." + +"Our master!" said La Mole, in a low voice, "the Duc d'Alençon?" + +"Yes. According to what he told me, I supposed it was to him you owed +your life." + +"I owe my life to the King of Navarre," replied La Mole. + +"Oh!" exclaimed Coconnas, "are you sure?" + +"Beyond a doubt." + +"Oh! what a good, kind king! But what part did the Duc d'Alençon play in +it all?" + +"He held the rope to strangle me." + +"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas, "are you sure of what you say, La Mole? +What! this pale-faced, pitiful-looking cur strangle my friend! Ah! by +Heaven, by to-morrow I will let him know what I think of him." + +"Are you mad?" + +"That is true, he would begin again. But what does it matter? Things +cannot go on like this." + +"Come, come, Coconnas, calm yourself and try and remember that it is +half-past eleven o'clock and that you are on duty to-night." + +"What do I care about my duty to him! Bah! Let him wait! My attendance! +I serve a man who has held a rope? You are joking! No! This is +providential; it is said that I should find you to leave you no more. I +shall stay here." + +"Why, man alive, think what you are saying. You are not drunk, I hope." + +"No, fortunately; if I were I would set fire to the Louvre." + +"Come, Annibal," said La Mole, "be reasonable. Return to your duties. +Service is a sacred thing." + +"Will you return with me?" + +"Impossible." + +"Are they still thinking of killing you?" + +"I think not. I am of too little importance for them to have any plot on +hand about me. For an instant they wanted to kill me, but that was all. +The princes were on a frolic that night." + +"What are you going to do, then?" + +"Nothing; wander about or take a walk." + +"Well, I will walk, too, and wander with you. That will be charming. +Then, if you are attacked, there will be two of us, and we will give +them no end of trouble. Let him come, your duke! I will pin him to the +wall like a butterfly!" + +"But, at least, say that you are going to leave his service!" + +"Yes, I am." + +"In that case, tell him so." + +"Well, that seems only right. I will do so. I will write to him." + +"Write to him! That would be discourteous, Coconnas, to a prince of the +blood." + +"Yes, of the blood! of the blood of my friend. Take care," cried +Coconnas, rolling his large, tragic eyes, "lest I trifle with points of +etiquette!" + +"Probably," said La Mole to himself, "in a few days he will need neither +the prince nor any one else, for if he wants to come with us, we will +take him." + +Thereupon Coconnas took the pen without further opposition from his +friend and hastily composed the following specimen of eloquence: + + "_Monseigneur: There can be no doubt but that your highness, versed + as you are in the writings of all authors of antiquity, must know + the touching story of Orestes and Pylades, who were two heroes + celebrated for their misfortunes and their friendship. My friend La + Mole is no less unfortunate than was Orestes, while I am no less + tender than Pylades. At present he has affairs of importance which + demand my aid. It is therefore impossible for me to leave him. So + with the consent of your highness I will take a short vacation, + determined as I am to attach myself to my friend's fortune, + whithersoever it may lead me. It is with the deepest grief that I + tear myself away from the service of your highness, but for this I + trust I may obtain your pardon. I venture to subscribe myself with + respect, my lord,_ + + "_Your highness's very humble and very obedient servant_, + + "_ANNIBAL, COMTE DE COCONNAS_, + + "_The inseparable friend of Monsieur de la Mole._" + +This masterpiece finished, Coconnas read it aloud to La Mole, who merely +shrugged his shoulders. + +"Well! what do you say to it?" asked Coconnas, who had not seen the +shrug, or who had pretended not to see it. + +"I say," replied La Mole, "that Monsieur d'Alençon will laugh at us." + +"At us?" + +"Both of us." + +"That will be better, it seems to me, than to strangle each of us +separately." + +"Bah!" said La Mole, laughing, "the one will not necessarily prevent the +other." + +"Well! so much the worse. Come what may, I will send the letter +to-morrow morning. Where shall we sleep when we leave here?" + +"At Maître la Hurière's, in that little room in which you tried to stab +me before we were Orestes and Pylades!" + +"Very well, I will send my letter to the Louvre by our host." + +Just then the panel moved. + +"Well!" asked both princesses at once, "where are Orestes and Pylades?" + +"By Heaven! madame," replied Coconnas, "Pylades and Orestes are dying of +hunger and love." + +It was Maître la Hurière himself who, at nine o'clock the following +morning, carried to the Louvre the respectful missive of Count Annibal +de Coconnas. + + + + +CHAPTER XLV. + +ORTHON. + + +After the refusal of the Duc d'Alençon, which left everything in peril, +even his life, Henry became more intimate with the prince than ever, if +that were possible. Catharine concluded from the intimacy that the two +princes not only understood each other perfectly, but also that they +were planning some mutual conspiracy. She questioned Marguerite on the +subject, but Marguerite was worthy of her mother, and the Queen of +Navarre, whose chief talent lay in avoiding explanations, parried her +mother's questions so cleverly that although replying to all she left +Catharine more mystified than ever. + +The Florentine, therefore, had nothing to guide her except the spirit of +intrigue she had brought with her from Tuscany, the most interesting of +the small states of that period, and the feeling of hatred she had +imbibed from the court of France, which was more divided in its +interests and opinions than any court at that time. + +She realized that a part of the strength of the Béarnais came from his +alliance with the Duc d'Alençon, and she determined to separate them. + +From the moment she formed this resolution she beset her son with the +patience and the wiles of an angler, who, when he has dropped his bait +near the fish, unconsciously draws it in until his prey is caught. + +François perceived this increase of affection on the part of his mother +and made advances to her. As for Henry, he pretended to see nothing, but +kept a closer watch on his ally than he had yet done. + +Every one was waiting for some event. + +During this state of things, one morning when the sun rose clear, giving +out that gentle warmth and sweet odor which announce a beautiful day, a +pale man, leaning on a cane, and walking with difficulty, came out of a +small house situated behind the arsenal, and walked slowly along the Rue +du Petit Muse. + +At the Porte Saint Antoine he turned into the street which encircles the +moat of the Bastille like a marsh, left the boulevard on his left and +entered the Archery Garden, where the gatekeeper received him with every +mark of respect. + +There was no one in the garden, which, as its name implies, belonged to +a particular society called the Taxopholites. Had there been any +strollers there the pale man would have merited their sympathy, for his +long mustache, his military step and bearing, though weakened by +suffering, sufficiently indicated that he was an officer who had been +recently wounded, and who was endeavoring to regain his strength by +moderate exercise in the open air. + +Yet, strange to say, when the cloak opened in which, in spite of the +increasing heat, this apparently harmless man was wrapped, it displayed +a pair of long pistols suspended from the silver clasps of his belt. +This belt also sustained a dagger and a sword so enormously long that it +seemed almost impossible to be handled, and which, completing this +living arsenal, clattered against his shrunken and trembling legs. + +As an additional precaution the lonely soldier glanced around at every +step as though to question each turn of the path, each bush and ditch. + +Having entered the garden without being molested, the man reached a sort +of small arbor, facing the boulevard, from which it was separated by a +thick hedge and a small ditch which formed a double inclosure. He threw +himself upon a grassy bank within reach of a table on which the host of +the establishment, who combined with his duties as gatekeeper the +vocation of cook, at once placed a bottle of cordial. + +The invalid had been there about ten minutes and had several times +raised the china cup to his lips, taking little sips of its contents, +when suddenly his countenance, in spite of its interesting pallor, +assumed a startled expression. From the Croix Faubin, along a path which +to-day is the Rue de Naples, he had perceived a cavalier, wrapped in a +great cloak, stop near the moat. + +Not more than five minutes had elapsed, during which the man of the pale +face, whom the reader has perhaps already recognized as Maurevel, had +scarcely had time to recover from the emotion caused by his unexpected +presence, when the horseman was joined by a man in a close-fitting coat, +like that of a page, who came by the road which is since known as the +Rue des Fossés Saint Nicholas. + +Hidden in his leafy arbor, Maurevel could easily see and hear +everything, and when it is known that the cavalier was De Mouy and the +young man in the tight-fitting cloak Orthon, one may imagine whether +Maurevel's eyes and ears were not on the alert. + +Both men looked very carefully around. Maurevel held his breath. + +"You may speak, monsieur," said Orthon, who being the younger was the +more confident; "no one can either see or hear us." + +"That is well," said De Mouy, "you are to go to Madame de Sauve, and if +you find her in her rooms give her this note. If she is not there, you +will place it behind the mirror where the king is in the habit of +putting his letters. Then you will wait in the Louvre. If you receive an +answer, you will bring it you know where; if no reply is sent, you will +meet me this evening with a petronel at the spot I showed you, and from +which I have just come." + +"Very well," said Orthon, "I understand." + +"I will now leave you. I have much to do to-day. You need make no +haste--there is no use in it, for you do not need to reach the Louvre +until he is there, and I think he is taking a lesson in hawking this +morning. Now go, and show me what you can do. You have recovered, and +you apparently are going to thank Madame de Sauve for her kindness to +you during your illness. Now go, my boy." + +Maurevel listened, his eyes fixed, his hair on end, his forehead covered +with perspiration. His first impulse had been to detach one of his +pistols from his belt and aim at De Mouy; but a movement of the latter +had opened his cloak and displayed a firm and solid cuirass. Therefore +in all probability the ball would flatten itself against this cuirass or +strike some part of the body wherein the wound would not be fatal. +Besides, he reflected that De Mouy, strong and well armed, would have an +advantage over him, wounded as he was. So with a sigh he drew back the +weapon which he had pointed at the Huguenot. + +"How unfortunate," he murmured, "that I am unable to stretch him dead on +the spot, without other witness than that young varlet who would have +been such a good mark for my second ball!" + +But Maurevel thought that the note given to Orthon and which he was to +deliver to Madame de Sauve might perhaps be of more importance than the +life of the Huguenot chief. + +"Well!" said he, "you have escaped me again this morning; be it so. +To-morrow I will have my turn at you if I have to follow you into that +hell from which you have come to ruin me, unless I destroy you." + +De Mouy raised his cloak over his face, and set out rapidly in the +direction of the Temple. Orthon took the road along the moat which led +to the banks of the river. + +Then Maurevel, rising with more energy and vigor than he had dared to +hope for, regained the Rue de la Cerisaie, reached his home, ordered a +horse to be saddled, and weak as he was and at the risk of opening his +wounds again, set off at a gallop to the Rue Saint Antoine, reached the +quays, and entered the Louvre. + +Five minutes after he had passed under the gate Catharine knew all that +had just taken place, and Maurevel had received the thousand golden +crowns promised him for the arrest of the King of Navarre. + +"Oh!" said Catharine, "either I am mistaken or this De Mouy is the black +spot that was discovered by Réné in the horoscope of the accursed +Béarnais." + +A quarter of an hour after Maurevel Orthon entered the Louvre, showed +himself as De Mouy had directed, and went to the apartments of Madame de +Sauve, after having spoken to several attendants of the palace. + +Dariole was the only one in her mistress's rooms. Catharine had asked +the latter to write certain important letters, and she had been with the +queen for the last five minutes. + +"No matter," said Orthon, "I will wait." + +Taking advantage of his intimacy in the house, the young man went into +the sleeping-room of the baroness, and, having assured himself that he +was alone, he laid the note behind the mirror. Just as he was removing +his hand Catharine entered. + +Orthon turned pale, for it seemed to him that the quick, searching +glance of the queen mother was first directed to the mirror. + +"What are you doing here, my little man?" asked Catharine; "looking for +Madame de Sauve?" + +"Yes, madame; it is a long time since I saw her, and if I delay any +longer in thanking her I fear she will think me ungrateful." + +"You love this dear Charlotte very much, do you not?" + +"With all my heart, madame!" + +"And you are faithful, from what I hear." + +"Your majesty will understand that this is very natural when you know +that Madame de Sauve took more care of me than I, being only an humble +servant, deserved." + +"And upon what occasion did she bestow all this care on you?" asked +Catharine, pretending to be ignorant of what had happened to the youth. + +"When I was wounded, madame." + +"Ah, poor boy!" said Catharine, "you were wounded?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"When was that?" + +"The night they tried to arrest the King of Navarre. I was so terrified +at sight of the soldiers that I called and shouted; and one of the men +gave me a blow on the head which knocked me senseless." + +"Poor boy! And are you quite recovered now?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"So that you are trying to get back into the service of the King of +Navarre?" + +"No, madame. When the King of Navarre learned that I had dared to resist +your majesty's order he dismissed me at once." + +"Indeed!" said Catharine, in a tone full of interest; "well, I will see +to that affair. But if you are waiting for Madame de Sauve you will wait +in vain, for she is occupied in my apartments." + +Whereupon, thinking that Orthon perhaps had not had time to hide his +note behind the mirror, Catharine stepped into the adjoining room in +order to give him the necessary opportunity. + +But just as Orthon, anxious at the unexpected arrival of the queen +mother, was wondering whether her coming did not forebode some plot +against his master, he heard three gentle taps against the ceiling. This +was the signal which he himself was in the habit of giving his master in +case of danger when the latter was with Madame de Sauve and Orthon was +keeping guard. + +He started at the sound; a light broke upon his mind; he fancied that +this time the warning had been given to him. Springing to the mirror, he +removed the note he had just placed there. + +Through an opening in the tapestry Catharine had followed every movement +of the boy. She saw him dart to the mirror, but she did not know whether +it was to hide the note or take it away. + +"Well!" murmured the impatient Florentine; "why does he not leave now?" + +And she returned to the room smiling. + +"Still here, my boy?" said she; "why, what do you want? Did I not tell +you that I would look after your fortune? When I say a thing you do not +doubt it, do you?" + +"Oh, madame, God forbid!" replied Orthon. + +And approaching the queen, he bent his knee, kissed the hem of her robe, +and at once withdrew. + +As he went through the antechamber he saw the captain of the guards, who +was waiting for Catharine. The sight of this man, instead of allaying +his suspicions, augmented them. + +On her part, no sooner had she seen the curtains fall behind Orthon than +Catharine sprang to the mirror. But in vain she sought behind it with +hands trembling with impatience. She found no note. + +And yet she was sure that she had seen the boy approach the mirror. It +was to remove the note, therefore, and not to leave it. Fate had given +to her enemies a strength equal to her own. + +A child had become a man the moment he fought with her. + +She moved the mirror, looked behind it, tapped it; nothing was there! + +"Oh! unhappy boy!" cried she, "I wished him no ill and now by removing +the note he hastens his destiny. Ho, there, Monsieur de Nancey!" + +The vibrating tones of the queen mother rang through the salon and +penetrated into the anteroom, where, as we have said, Monsieur de Nancey +was waiting. + +The captain of the guards hastened to the queen. + +"Here I am, madame," said he, "what is your majesty's will?" + +"Have you been in the antechamber?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Did you see a young man, a child, pass through?" + +"Just now." + +"He cannot have gone far, can he?" + +"Scarcely to the stairway." + +"Call him back." + +"What is his name?" + +"Orthon. If he refuses to come bring him back by force; but do not +frighten him unless he resists. I must speak to him at once." + +The captain of the guards hurriedly withdrew. + +As he had said, Orthon was scarcely half way down the stairs, for he was +descending slowly, hoping to meet or see the King of Navarre or Madame +de Sauve somewhere. + +He heard his name and gave a start. + +His first impulse was to run, but with forethought beyond his years he +realized that by doing so all would be lost. + +He stopped therefore. + +"Who calls me?" + +"I, Monsieur de Nancey," replied the captain of the guards, hurrying +down the stairs. + +"But I am in haste," said Orthon. + +"By order of her majesty the queen mother," said Monsieur de Nancey, as +he came up to him. + +The youth wiped the perspiration from his brow and turned back. + +The captain followed. + +Catharine's first idea had been to stop the young man, have him +searched, and take possession of the note which she knew he had. She had +planned to accuse him of theft, and with this end in view she had +removed from the toilet table a diamond clasp which she was going to say +he had taken. + +But on reflection she concluded that this would be dangerous, in that it +would arouse the boy's suspicions and he would inform his master, who +would then begin to mistrust something, and so her enemy would gain an +advantage over her. + +She could, no doubt, have the young man taken to some dungeon, but the +rumor of the arrest, however secretly it might be done, would spread +through the Louvre, and the slightest inkling of it would put Henry on +his guard. However, she must have the note, for a note from Monsieur de +Mouy to the King of Navarre, a note sent with such precautions, surely +meant conspiracy. + +She put back the clasp from where she had taken it. + +"No, no," said she, "that would be the method of a guard; it is poor. +But for a note--which perhaps after all is not worth the trouble," she +continued, frowning, and speaking so low that she herself could scarcely +hear the sound of her words. "Well, it is not my fault, but his. Why did +not the little scoundrel put the note where he should have put it? I +must have this letter." + +Just then Orthon entered. + +Catharine's face wore such a terrible expression that the youth stopped +on the threshold pale as death. He was still too young to be perfect +master of himself. + +"Madame," said he, "you have done me the honor of calling me back. In +what can I serve your majesty?" + +Catharine's face lighted up as if a ray of sunlight had touched it. + +"I called you back, my child," said she, "because your face pleases me, +and having promised to help you I am anxious to do so without delay. We +queens are sometimes accused of being forgetful. But this is not on +account of our hearts, but because our minds are filled with business. +Now I remembered that kings hold men's fortunes in their hands, and so I +called you back. Follow me, my child." + +Monsieur de Nancey, who was taking the affair seriously, was greatly +surprised at Catharine's affectionate manner. + +"Can you ride, my child?" asked Catharine. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Then come into my room. I want to give you a message to carry to Saint +Germain." + +"I am at your majesty's command." + +"Order a horse to be saddled, De Nancey." + +Monsieur de Nancey disappeared. + +"Come, boy," said Catharine, leading the way. + +Orthon followed. The queen mother descended to the next floor, entered +the corridor in which were the apartments of the king and the Duc +d'Alençon, reached the winding staircase, again descended a flight of +stairs, and opened a door leading to a circular gallery to which none +but the king and herself possessed the key. Bidding Orthon pass in +first, she entered after him and locked the door. This gallery formed a +sort of rampart to a certain portion of the apartments of the king and +the queen mother, and, like the corridor of the castle of Saint Angelo +at Rome, or that of the Pitti Palace at Florence, was a safe place in +case of danger. The door locked, Catharine was alone with the young man +in the dark corridor. Each advanced a few steps, the queen leading the +way, Orthon following. + +Suddenly Catharine turned and Orthon again saw on her face the same +sinister expression which he had seen on it a few minutes before. Her +eyes were as round as those of a cat or a panther and seemed to dart +forth fire in the darkness. + +"Stop!" she cried. + +Orthon felt a shiver run through him; a deathly cold like an icy cloak +seemed to fall from the ceiling. The floor felt like the covering of a +tomb. Catharine's glance was so sharp that it seemed to penetrate to the +very soul of the page. He recoiled and leaned against the wall, +trembling from head to foot. + +"Where is the note you were charged to give to the King of Navarre?" + +"The note?" stammered Orthon. + +"Yes; which, if you did not find him, you were to place behind the +mirror?" + +"I, madame," said Orthon, "I do not know what you mean." + +"The note which De Mouy gave you an hour ago, behind the Archery +Garden." + +"I have no note," said Orthon; "your majesty must be mistaken." + +"You lie," said Catharine; "give me the note, and I will keep the +promise I made you." + +"What promise, madame?" + +"I will make your fortune." + +"I have no note, madame," repeated the child. + +Catharine ground her teeth; then assuming a smile: + +"Give it to me," said she, "and you shall have a thousand golden +crowns." + +"I have no note, madame." + +"Two thousand crowns." + +"Impossible; since I have no note, how can I give it to you?" + +"Ten thousand crowns, Orthon." + +Orthon, who saw the anger of the queen rising, felt that there was only +one way of saving his master, and that was to swallow the note. He put +his hand to his pocket, but Catharine guessed his intention and stopped +him. + +"There, my child," said she, laughing, "you are certainly faithful. When +kings wish to attach a follower to them there is no harm in their making +sure of his trustworthiness. Here, take this purse as a first reward. Go +and carry your note to your master, and tell him that from to-day you +are in my service. You can get out without me by the door we entered. It +opens from within." + +And giving the purse to the astonished youth Catharine walked on a few +steps and placed her hand against the wall. + +But the young man stood still, hesitating. He could not believe that the +danger he had felt hovering over him was gone. + +"Come, do not tremble so," said Catharine. "Have I not told you that you +were free to go, and that if you wish to come back your fortune is +made?" + +"Thank you, madame," said Orthon. "Then you pardon me?" + +"I do more, I reward you; you are a faithful bearer of notes, a gentle +messenger of love. But you forget your master is waiting for you." + +"Ah! that is true," said the young man, springing towards the door. + +But scarcely had he advanced three steps before the floor gave way +beneath his feet. He stumbled, extended both hands, gave a fearful cry, +and disappeared in the dungeon of the Louvre, the spring of which +Catharine had just touched. + +"So," murmured the queen, "thanks to the fellow's obstinacy I shall have +to descend a hundred and fifty steps." + +The queen mother returned to her apartments, lighted a dark lantern, +came back to the corridor, closed the spring, and opened the door of a +spiral staircase which seemed to lead to the bowels of the earth. Urged +on by the insatiable thirst of a curiosity which was but the minister of +her hatred, she reached an iron door which turned on its hinges and +admitted her to the depths of the dungeon. Bleeding, crushed, and +mutilated by a fall of a hundred feet or more, but still breathing, lay +poor Orthon. + +Beyond the thick wall the waters of the Seine were heard roaring, +brought to the foot of the stairs by a subterranean channel. + +Catharine entered the damp and unwholesome place, which during her reign +had witnessed many a fall similar to the one it had just seen, searched +the body, seized the letter, made sure that it was the one she desired, +then pushing aside the body with her foot she pressed a spring, the +bottom of the dungeon sank, and the corpse, carried down by its own +weight, disappeared in the direction of the river. + +Closing the door again, Catharine ascended, shut herself in her closet, +and read the note, which contained these words: + + "_This evening at ten o'clock, Rue de l'Arbre Sec, Hôtel de la + Belle Étoile. If you come send no reply; otherwise send back NO by + the bearer._ + + "_DE MOUY DE SAINT PHALE._" + +As Catharine read this note a smile came to her lips. She was thinking +of the victory she was to gain, forgetting the price at which she had +bought it. But after all what was Orthon? A faithful, devoted follower, +a handsome young boy; that was all. + +That, one may well imagine, would not for an instant have turned the +scales on which the fate of empires had been weighed. + +The note read, Catharine at once went to Madame de Sauve's and placed it +behind the mirror. + +As she came down she found the captain of the guards at the entrance of +the corridor. + +"Madame," said Monsieur de Nancey, "according to your majesty's orders +the horse is ready." + +"My dear baron," said Catharine, "we shall not need it. I have made the +boy speak, and he is really too stupid to be charged with the errand I +wanted to entrust to him. I thought he was a lackey, but he is nothing +but a groom at best. I gave him some money and dismissed him by the +private gate." + +"But," said Monsieur de Nancey, "the errand?" + +"The errand?" asked Catharine. + +"The one on which he was to go to Saint Germain. Does your majesty wish +me to undertake it, or shall I have one of my men attend to it?" + +"No, no," said Catharine, "this evening you and your men will have +something else to do." + +Whereupon the queen mother returned to her room, hoping that evening to +hold in her hands the fate of the accursed King of Navarre. + + + + +CHAPTER XLVI. + +THE INN OF LA BELLE ÉTOILE. + + +Two hours after the event we have described, no trace of which remained +on Catharine's face, Madame de Sauve, having finished her work for the +queen, returned to her own rooms. Henry followed her, and learning from +Dariole that Orthon had been there he went directly to the mirror and +found the note. + +It was, as we have said, couched in these terms: + +"_This evening at ten o'clock, Rue de l'Arbre Sec, Hôtel de la Belle +Étoile. If you come send no reply; otherwise send back NO by the +bearer._" + +There was no address. + +"Henry will not fail to keep the appointment," said Catharine, "for even +had he not wished to do so there is no longer a messenger to take back +his answer." + +Catharine was not mistaken. + +Henry inquired for Orthon. Dariole said that he had gone out with the +queen mother; but as the note had been found in its place, and as the +poor boy was known to be incapable of treason, Henry felt no anxiety. + +He dined as usual at the table of the King, who joked him greatly on the +mistakes he had made while hawking that morning. + +Henry made excuses for himself, saying that he came from the mountains +and not the plain, but he promised Charles to study the art. Catharine +was charming, and on leaving the table begged Marguerite to pass the +evening with her. + +At eight o'clock Henry took two attendants, left by the Porte Saint +Honoré, made a long circuit, returned by the Tour de Bois, and crossing +the Seine at the ferry of Nesle, rode up the Rue Saint Jacques, where he +dismissed his gentlemen, as if he were going to keep some love +appointment. At the corner of the Rue des Mathurins he found a man on +horseback, wrapped in a cloak. He approached him. + +"Mantes!" said the man. + +"Pau!" replied the king. + +The man at once dismounted. Henry put on his splashed mantle, mounted +the horse, which was covered with foam, returned by the Rue de la Harpe, +crossed the Pont Saint Michel, passed down the Rue Barthélemy, again +crossed the river at the Pont aux Meuniers, descended the quays, took +the Rue de l'Arbre Sec, and knocked at the door of Maître la Hurière's. + +La Mole was in a room writing a long love-letter--to whom may easily be +imagined. + +Coconnas was in the kitchen with La Hurière, watching half a dozen +partridges roasting, and disputing with his friend the host as to when +they should be removed from the spit. At this moment Henry knocked. +Grégoire opened the door and led the horse to the stable, while the +traveller entered, stamping on the floor as if to warm his benumbed +feet. + +"Maître La Hurière," said La Mole, as he continued to write, "here is a +gentleman asking for you." + +La Hurière advanced, looked at Henry from head to foot, and as his thick +cloth mantle did not inspire the innkeeper with very great veneration: + +"Who are you?" he asked. + +"Well, by Heaven!" said Henry, pointing to La Mole, "monsieur has just +told you; I am a gentleman from Gascony come to court." + +"What do you want?" + +"A room and supper." + +"Humph!" said La Hurière, "have you a lackey?" + +This was the question usually asked, as is well known. + +"No," replied Henry, "but I hope to have one when I make my fortune." + +"I do not let rooms to any one unless he has a lackey," said La Hurière. + +"Even if I offered to pay you double for your supper?" + +"Oh! you are very generous, worthy sir!" said La Hurière, looking +suspiciously at Henry. + +"Not at all, but, hoping to pass the night in your hotel, which has been +highly recommended by a nobleman from my county who has been here, I +invited a friend to sup with me. Have you any good wine of Arbois?" + +"I have some which is better than the King of Navarre drinks." + +"Good! I will pay well for it. Ah! here is my friend." + +Just then the door opened and a gentleman entered older by a few years +than the first, and dragging a long rapier at his side. + +"Ah!" said he, "you are prompt, my young friend. For a man who has just +made two hundred leagues it is something to be so punctual." + +"Is this your guest?" asked La Hurière. + +"Yes," said the first, going up to the young man with the rapier and +shaking him by the hand, "we will have our supper now." + +"Here or in your room?" + +"Wherever you please." + +"Maître," said La Mole to La Hurière, "rid us of these Huguenot fellows. +Coconnas and I cannot say a word before them." + +"Carry the supper to room No. 2, on the third floor. Upstairs, +gentlemen." + +The two travellers followed Grégoire, who preceded them with lights. + +La Mole watched them until they had disappeared. Then turning round he +saw Coconnas, whose head was thrust out of the kitchen door. Two great +eyes and an open mouth gave to the latter's face a remarkable expression +of astonishment. + +La Mole stepped up to him. + +"By Heaven!" said Coconnas, "did you see?" + +"What?" + +"Those two gentlemen." + +"Well?" + +"I would swear that it was"-- + +"Who?" + +"Why--the King of Navarre and the man in the red cloak." + +"Swear if you will, but not too loud." + +"Did you recognize them too?" + +"Certainly." + +"What are they here for?" + +"Some love affair." + +"You think so?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"La Mole, I prefer sword-thrusts to these love affairs. I would have +sworn a moment ago, now I will bet." + +"What will you bet?" + +"That there is some plot on hand." + +"You are mad." + +"I tell you"-- + +"I tell you that even if they are plotting it is their own affair." + +"That is true. However," said Coconnas, "I no longer belong to Monsieur +d'Alençon. So let them do as they see fit." + +As the partridges had apparently reached the state in which Coconnas +liked them, the Piedmontese, who counted on making the most of his +dinner of them, called Maître la Hurière to remove them from the spit. + +Meantime Henry and De Mouy were installed in their chamber. + +"Well, sire," said De Mouy, when Grégoire had set the table, "have you +seen Orthon?" + +"No; but I found the note he left behind the mirror. The boy must have +become frightened, I suppose, for Queen Catharine came in while he was +there, so he went away without waiting for my answer." + +"For a moment I felt somewhat anxious about him, as Dariole told me that +the queen mother had had a long talk with him." + +"Oh! there is no danger. The boy is clever, and although the queen +mother knows his profession he will not let her find out much from him, +I am sure." + +"But have you seen him, De Mouy?" asked Henry. + +"No, but I expect to this evening. At midnight he is to come here for me +with a good petronel. He will tell me what happened as we walk along." + +"And the man at the corner of the Rue des Mathurins?" + +"What man?" + +"The man who gave me his horse and cloak. Are you sure of him?" + +"He is one of our most devoted followers. Besides, he neither knows your +majesty nor why he himself was there." + +"Can we discuss our affairs without fear, then?" + +"Certainly. Besides, La Mole is on the watch." + +"Well, sire, what says Monsieur d'Alençon?" + +"Monsieur d'Alençon will not go, De Mouy. He said so positively. The +election of D'Anjou to the throne of Poland and the king's illness have +changed his mind." + +"So he is the one who spoiled our plan?" + +"Yes." + +"Has he betrayed us?" + +"Not yet; but he will do so at the first opportunity." + +"Coward! traitor! Why did he not answer my letters?" + +"In order to have proofs against you, and none against himself. +Meantime, all is lost, is it not, De Mouy?" + +"On the contrary, sire, all is won. You know that the whole party, +except the faction of the Prince de Condé, was for you, and used the +duke, with whom it seemed to have relations, only as a safeguard. Well, +since the day of the ceremony I have arranged so that everything is for +you. One hundred men were enough to escape with the Duc d'Alençon; I +have raised fifteen hundred. In one week they will be ready and drawn up +on the road to Pau. It will not be a flight but a retreat. Fifteen +hundred men will suffice, sire, will they not? Shall you feel safe with +such an army?" + +Henry smiled and touched him on the shoulder. + +"You know, De Mouy," said he, "and you alone know it, that Henry of +Navarre is not naturally such a coward as is supposed." + +"Yes, I know that, sire; and I trust before long that all France will +know it too." + +"But where one plots one must succeed. The first condition of success is +decision; and for decision to be rapid, frank, and to the point, one +must be sure of success." + +"Well, sire, what days do you hunt?" + +"Every week or ten days we either hunt or hawk." + +"When did you hunt last?" + +"To-day." + +"Then a week or ten days from now you will hunt again?" + +"No doubt; possibly before then." + +"Listen, sire; everything seems perfectly quiet. The Duc d'Anjou has +left; no one thinks of him. The King is getting better every day. The +persecution against us has almost ceased. Play the amiable with the +queen mother and Monsieur d'Alençon; keep telling him that you cannot go +without him, and try to make him believe you, which is more difficult." + +"Do not worry, he will believe me." + +"Do you think he has such confidence in you?" + +"No, God forbid, but he believes everything the queen says." + +"And is the queen true to us?" + +"Oh! I have proof of it. Besides, she is ambitious and is dying for this +far-off crown of Navarre." + +"Well! three days before the hunt send me word where it will take +place--whether it is to be at Bondy, at Saint Germain, or at +Rambouillet. Monsieur de la Mole will ride ahead of you; follow him, and +ride fast. Once out of the forest if the queen mother wants you she will +have to run after you; and I trust that her Norman horses will not see +even the hoofs of our Barbary steeds and our Spanish ponies." + +"Agreed, De Mouy." + +"Have you any money, sire?" + +Henry made the same grimace he made all his life at this question. + +"Not much," said he; "but I think Margot has some." + +"Well! whether it is yours or hers, bring as much as you can." + +"And in the meantime what are you going to do?" + +"Having paid some attention to your majesty's affairs, as you see, will +your majesty permit me to devote a little time to my own?" + +"Certainly, De Mouy, certainly, but what are yours?" + +"Yesterday Orthon told me (he is a very intelligent boy, whom I +recommend to your majesty) that he met that scoundrel of a Maurevel near +the arsenal, that thanks to Réné he has recovered, and that he was +warming himself in the sun like the snake that he is." + +"Ah, yes, I understand," said Henry. + +"Very good, then. You will be king some day, sire, and if you have +anything such as I have to avenge you can do so in a kingly way. I am a +soldier and must avenge myself like a soldier. So while all our little +affairs are being arranged, which will give that scoundrel five or six +days in which to recover more fully, I too shall take a stroll around +the arsenal, and I will pin him to the grass with four blows of my +rapier, after which I shall leave Paris with a lighter heart." + +"Attend to your affairs, my friend, by all means," said the Béarnais. +"By the way, you are pleased with La Mole, are you not?" + +"Yes; he is a charming fellow, devoted to you body and soul, sire, and +on whom you can depend as you can on me--brave"-- + +"And above all, discreet. So he must follow us to Navarre, De Mouy; once +there we will look about and see what we can do to recompense him." + +As Henry concluded these words with a sly smile, the door opened or +rather was broken in, and the man they had just been praising appeared, +pale and agitated. + +"Quick, sire," cried he; "quick, the house is surrounded." + +"Surrounded!" cried Henry, rising; "by whom?" + +"By the King's guards." + +"Oh!" said De Mouy, drawing his pistols from his belt, "we are to have a +battle, apparently." + +"Well," said La Mole, "you may well talk of pistols and battle, but what +can you do against fifty men?" + +"He is right," said the king; "and if there were any means of escape"-- + +"There is one which has already been of use to me, and if your majesty +will follow me"-- + +"And De Mouy?" + +"And De Mouy too if he wishes, but you must be quick." + +Steps were heard on the stairs. + +"It is too late," said Henry. + +"Ah! if any one would only engage them for five minutes," cried La Mole, +"I would save the king." + +"Save him, then, monsieur," said De Mouy; "I will look after them. Go, +sire, go." + +"But what shall you do?" + +"Do not fear, sire, but go." + +And De Mouy began by hiding the king's plate, napkin, and goblet, so +that it might seem as though he had been alone at table. + +"Come, sire, come," cried La Mole, seizing the king by the arm and +dragging him towards the stairway. + +"De Mouy, my brave De Mouy!" exclaimed Henry, holding out his hand to +the young man. + +De Mouy kissed the hand, pushed Henry from the room, and closed and +bolted the door after him. + +"Yes, I understand," said Henry, "he will be caught, while we escape; +but who the devil can have betrayed us?" + +"Come, sire, come. They are on the stairs." + +In fact, the light of the torches was beginning to be seen on the wall, +while at the foot of the stairs sounds like the clanking of swords were +heard. + +"Quick, quick, sire!" cried La Mole. + +And, guiding the king in the darkness, he ascended two flights, pushed +open a door, which he locked behind him, and, opening the window of a +closet: + +"Sire," said he, "is your majesty very much afraid of a walk across the +roofs?" + +"I?" said Henry, "come, now; am I not a chamois hunter?" + +"Well, your majesty must follow me. I know the way and will guide you." + +"Go on," said Henry, "I will follow." + +La Mole stepped out, went along the ledge, which formed a sort of +gutter, at the end of which they came to a depression between two roofs. +In this way they reached an open window leading to an empty garret. + +"Sire," said La Mole, "here we are at the opening." + +"Ah! so much the better," said Henry, wiping the perspiration from his +pale face. + +"Now," said La Mole, "it will be easier: this garret opens on to a +stairway, the stairway leads to an alley, and the alley to the street. I +travelled the same road, sire, on a much more terrible night than this." + +"Go on, go on," said Henry. + +La Mole sprang through the open window, reached the unlocked door, +opened it, came to a winding stairway, and placing in the king's hand +the cord that served as a baluster: + +"Come, sire," said he. + +Half way down the stairs Henry stopped. He was before a window which +overlooked the courtyard of the _Belle Étoile_. On the opposite stairway +soldiers were seen running, some carrying swords, others torches. + +Suddenly in the midst of a group the King of Navarre perceived De Mouy. +He had surrendered his sword and was quietly descending the stairs. + +"Poor fellow," said Henry, "so brave and devoted!" + +"Faith, sire," said La Mole, "your majesty is right. He certainly does +seem calm; and see, he even laughs! It must be that he is planning some +scheme, for you know he seldom laughs." + +"And the young man who was with you?" + +"Monsieur de Coconnas?" asked La Mole. + +"Yes; what has become of him?" + +"Oh! sire, I am not anxious about him. On seeing the soldiers he said +only one word to me: 'Do we risk anything?' + +"'Our heads,' I answered. + +"'Can you escape?' + +"'I hope so.' + +"'Well, I can too,' he replied. And I promise you he will! Sire, when +Coconnas is caught it will be because he wishes to be caught." + +"Then," said Henry, "all is well. Let us try to get back to the Louvre." + +"That will be easy enough, sire," said La Mole. "Let us wrap ourselves +in our cloaks and start. The street is full of people running to see the +commotion, and we shall be taken for spectators." + +The gate was open and Henry and La Mole encountered no obstacle beyond +the crowds in the street. + +They reached the Rue d'Avernon; but in passing by the Rue Poulies they +saw De Mouy and his escort cross the Place Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, +led by the captain of the guards, Monsieur de Nancey. + +"Ah!" said Henry, "they are taking him to the Louvre, apparently. The +devil! the gates will be closed. They will take the names of all those +who enter, and if I am seen returning after him they will think I have +been with him." + +"Well! but, sire," said La Mole, "enter some other way than by the +gate." + +"How the devil do you mean?" + +"Well, sire, there is the Queen of Navarre's window." + +"_Ventre saint gris_, Monsieur de la Mole," said Henry, "you are right. +I never thought of that! But how can I attract the attention of the +queen?" + +"Oh," said La Mole, bowing with an air of respectful gratitude, "your +majesty throws stones so well!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLVII. + +DE MOUY DE SAINT PHALE. + + +This time Catharine had taken such precautions that she felt sure of her +object. + +Consequently, about ten o'clock she sent away Marguerite, thoroughly +convinced, as was the case, that the Queen of Navarre was ignorant of +the plot against her husband, and went to the King, begging him not to +retire so early. + +Mystified by the air of triumph which, in spite of her usual +dissimulation, appeared on his mother's face, Charles questioned +Catharine, who merely answered: + +"I can say only one thing to your Majesty: that this evening you will be +freed from two of your bitterest enemies." + +Charles raised his eyebrows like a man who says to himself: + +"That is well; we shall see;" and whistling to his great boar-hound, who +came to him dragging his belly along the ground like a serpent to lay +his fine and intelligent head on his master's knee, he waited. At the +end of a few minutes, during which Catharine sat with eyes and ears +alert, a pistol-shot was heard in the courtyard of the Louvre. + +"What is that noise?" asked Charles, frowning, while the hound sprang up +and pricked his ears. + +"Nothing except a signal," said Catharine; "that is all." + +"And what is the meaning of the signal?" + +"It means that from this moment, sire, your one real enemy can no longer +injure you." + +"Have they killed a man?" asked Charles, looking at his mother with that +look of command which signifies that assassination and mercy are two +inherent attributes of royal power. + +"No, sire, they have only arrested two." + +"Oh!" murmured Charles, "always hidden plots, always conspiracies around +the King. And yet, the devil! mother, I am grown up, and big enough to +look out for myself. I need neither leading-strings nor padded caps. Go +to Poland with your son Henry if you wish to reign; I tell you you are +wrong to play this kind of game here." + +"My son," said Catharine, "this is the last time I shall meddle with +your affairs. But the enterprise in which you have always thwarted me +was begun long ago, and I have earnestly endeavored to prove to your +Majesty that I am right." + +At that moment several men stopped in the outer hall and the butt-ends +of muskets were heard on the pavement. Almost at the same instant +Monsieur de Nancey begged an audience of the King. + +"Let him enter," said Charles, hastily. + +Monsieur de Nancey appeared, saluted the King, and turning to Catharine +said: + +"Madame, your majesty's orders are executed; he is captured." + +"What _he_?" cried Catharine, greatly troubled. "Have you arrested only +one?" + +"He was alone, madame." + +"Did he defend himself?" + +"No, he was supping quietly in a room, and gave up his sword the moment +it was demanded." + +"Who?" asked the King. + +"You shall see," said Catharine. "Bring in the prisoner, Monsieur de +Nancey." + +Five minutes later De Mouy was there. + +"De Mouy!" cried the King; "what is the matter now, monsieur?" + +"Well, sire," said De Mouy, with perfect composure, "if your Majesty +will allow me the liberty, I will ask the same of you." + +"Instead of asking this question of the King," said Catharine, "have the +kindness, Monsieur de Mouy, to tell my son who was the man found in the +chamber of the King of Navarre a certain night, and who on that night +resisted the orders of his Majesty like the rebel that he is, killed two +guards, and wounded Monsieur de Maurevel?" + +"Yes," said Charles, frowning, "do you know the name of that man, +Monsieur de Mouy?" + +"Yes, sire; does your Majesty wish to hear it?" + +"That will please me, I admit." + +"Well, sire, he is called De Mouy de Saint Phale." + +"It was you?" + +"It was I." + +Catharine, astonished at this audacity, recoiled a step. + +"How did you dare resist the orders of the King?" asked Charles. + +"In the first place, sire, I did not know that there was an order from +your Majesty; then I saw only one thing, or rather one man, Monsieur de +Maurevel, the assassin of my father and of the admiral. I remembered +that a year and a half ago, in the very room in which we now are, on the +evening of the 24th of August, your Majesty promised me to avenge us on +the murderer, and as since that time very grave events have occurred I +thought that in spite of himself the King had changed his mind. Seeing +Maurevel within reach, I believed Heaven had sent him to me. Your +Majesty knows the rest. Sire, I sprang upon him as upon an assassin and +fired at his men as I would have fired at bandits." + +Charles made no reply. His friendship for Henry had for some time made +him look at many things in a different light from which he had at first +seen them, and more than once with terror. + +In regard to Saint Bartholomew the queen mother had registered in her +memory remarks which had fallen from her son's lips and which resembled +remorse. + +"But," observed Catharine, "what were you doing at that hour in the +apartments of the King of Navarre?" + +"Oh!" replied De Mouy, "it is a long story, but if his Majesty has the +patience to listen"-- + +"Yes," said Charles; "speak, I wish to hear it." + +"I will obey, sire," said De Mouy, bowing. + +Catharine sat down, fixing an anxious look on the young chief. + +"We are listening," said Charles. "Here, Actéon!" + +The dog resumed the place he had occupied before the prisoner had been +admitted. + +"Sire," said De Mouy, "I came to his majesty the King of Navarre as the +deputy of our brethren, your faithful subjects of the reformed +religion." + +Catharine signed to Charles IX. + +"Be quiet, mother," said the latter. "I do not lose a word. Go on, +Monsieur de Mouy, go on; why did you come?" + +"To inform the King of Navarre," continued Monsieur de Mouy, "that his +abjuration had lost for him the confidence of the Huguenot party; but +that, nevertheless, in remembrance of his father, Antoine de Bourbon, +and especially on account of his mother, the courageous Jeanne d'Albret, +whose name is dear among us, the followers of the reformed religion owed +him this mark of deference, to beg him to desist from his claims to the +crown of Navarre." + +"What did he say?" asked Catharine, unable in spite of her self-control +to receive this unexpected blow calmly. + +"Ah! ah!" said Charles, "and yet this crown of Navarre, which without my +permission has been made to jump from head to head, seems to belong a +little to me." + +"The Huguenots, sire, recognize better than any one the principle of +sovereignty to which your Majesty has just referred. Therefore they +hope to induce your Majesty to place the crown on a head that is dear to +you." + +"To me!" said Charles; "on a head that is dear to me! The devil! what +head do you mean, monsieur? I do not understand." + +"On the head of Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon." + +Catharine became as pale as death, and gave De Mouy a flashing glance. + +"Did my brother D'Alençon know this?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"And did he accept the crown?" + +"Subject to the consent of your Majesty, to whom he referred us." + +"Ah!" said Charles, "it is a crown which would suit our brother +D'Alençon wonderfully well. And I never thought of it! Thanks, De Mouy, +thanks! When you have such ideas you will always be welcome at the +Louvre." + +"Sire, you would long since have been informed of this project had it +not been for that unfortunate affair of Maurevel's, which made me afraid +I had fallen into disgrace with your Majesty." + +"Yes, but what did Henry say to this plan?" asked Catharine. + +"The King of Navarre, madame, yielded to the desire of his brethren, and +his renunciation was ready." + +"In that case," said Catharine, "you must have the renunciation." + +"It happens that I have it with me, madame, signed by him and dated." + +"Dated previous to the affair in the Louvre?" said Catharine. + +"Yes, the evening before, I think." + +De Mouy drew from his pocket an abdication in favor of the Duc +d'Alençon, written and signed in Henry's hand, and bearing the date +indicated. + +"Faith, yes," said Charles, "and all is in due form." + +"What did Henry demand in return for this renunciation?" + +"Nothing, madame; the friendship of King Charles, he told us, would +amply repay him for the loss of a crown." + +Catharine bit her lips in anger and wrung her beautiful hands. + +"All this is perfectly correct, De Mouy," said the King. + +"Then," said the queen mother, "if everything was settled between you +and the King of Navarre, what was the object of your interview with him +this evening?" + +"I, madame! with the King of Navarre?" said De Mouy. "Monsieur de +Nancey, who arrested me, will bear witness that I was alone. Your +majesty can ask him." + +"Monsieur de Nancey!" called the King. + +The captain of the guards entered. + +"Monsieur de Nancey," said Catharine, quickly, "was Monsieur de Mouy +entirely alone at the inn of the _Belle Étoile_?" + +"In the room, yes, madame; in the hostelry, no." + +"Ah!" said Catharine, "who was his companion?" + +"I do not know if he was the companion of Monsieur de Mouy, madame, but +I know that a man escaped by a back door after having stretched two of +my men on the floor." + +"And you recognized this gentleman, no doubt?" + +"No, I did not, but my guards did." + +"Who was he?" asked Charles IX. + +"Monsieur le Comte Annibal de Coconnas." + +"Annibal de Coconnas!" exclaimed the King, gloomy and thoughtful; "the +one who made such a terrible slaughter of the Huguenots during the +massacre of Saint Bartholomew?" + +"Monsieur de Coconnas, a gentleman in the suite of Monsieur d'Alençon," +said Monsieur de Nancey. + +"Very good," said Charles IX. "You may go, Monsieur de Nancey, and +another time, remember one thing." + +"What is it, sire?" + +"That you are in my service, and that you are to obey no one but me." + +Monsieur de Nancey withdrew backwards, bowing respectfully. + +De Mouy smiled ironically at Catharine. + +There was an instant's silence. The queen twisted the tassels of her +girdle; Charles caressed his dog. + +"But what was your intention, monsieur?" continued Charles; "were you +acting violently?" + +"Against whom, sire?" + +"Why, against Henry, or François, or myself." + +"Sire, we have the renunciation of your brother-in-law, the consent of +your brother; and, as I have had the honor of telling you, we were on +the point of soliciting your Majesty's sanction when that unfortunate +affair occurred at the Louvre." + +"Well, mother," said Charles, "I see nothing wrong in all this. You were +right, Monsieur de Mouy, in asking for a king. Yes, Navarre may and +ought to be a separate kingdom. Moreover, it seems made expressly to +give to my brother D'Alençon, who has always had so great a desire for a +crown that when we wear ours he cannot keep his eyes off of it. The only +thing which stood in the way of this coronation was Henriot's rights; +but since Henriot voluntarily abdicates"-- + +"Voluntarily, sire." + +"It seems that it is the will of God! Monsieur de Mouy, you are free to +return to your brethren, whom I have chastised somewhat roughly, +perhaps, but that is between God and myself. Tell them that since they +desire to have my brother d'Alençon for King of Navarre the King of +France accedes to their wishes. From this moment Navarre is a kingdom, +and its sovereign is called François. I ask only eight days for my +brother to leave Paris with the brilliancy and pomp befitting a king. +Now go, Monsieur de Mouy, go! Monsieur de Nancey, allow Monsieur de Mouy +to pass; he is free." + +"Sire," said De Mouy, advancing a step, "will your Majesty permit me?" + +"Yes," said the King, and he extended his hand to the young Huguenot. + +De Mouy knelt and kissed the King's hand. + +"By the way," said Charles, detaining him as he was about to rise, "did +you not demand from me justice on that scoundrel of a Maurevel?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"I do not know where he is, as he is hiding; but if you meet him, take +justice into your own hands. I authorize you to do this and gladly." + +"Ah! sire," cried De Mouy, "your Majesty overwhelms me. Your Majesty may +rely on me. I have no idea where he is, but I will find him, you may +rest assured." + +De Mouy respectfully saluted King Charles and Queen Catharine, and +withdrew without hindrance from the guards who had brought him thither. +He passed rapidly through the corridors, reached the gate, and once +outside hurried to Place Saint Germain l'Auxerrois, to the inn of the +_Belle Étoile_. Here he found his horse, thanks to which, three hours +after the scene we have just described, the young man breathed in safety +behind the walls of Mantes. + +Catharine, consumed with rage, returned to her apartments, whence she +passed into those of Marguerite. + +She found Henry there in his dressing-gown, apparently ready for bed. + +"Satan!" she murmured, "aid a poor queen for whom God will do nothing +more!" + + + + +CHAPTER XLVIII. + +TWO HEADS FOR ONE CROWN. + + +"Ask Monsieur d'Alençon to come to me," said Charles as he dismissed his +mother. + +Monsieur de Nancey, in accordance with the remark of the King that +henceforth he was to obey him alone, hastened to the duke's apartments +and delivered word for word the order he had just received. + +The Duc d'Alençon gave a start. He had always feared Charles, and now +more than ever since by conspiring he had reason to be afraid. + +Nevertheless, he went to his brother in all haste. + +Charles was standing up, whistling a hunting-song. + +As he entered, the Duc d'Alençon caught from the glassy eye of the King +one of those bitter looks of hatred which he knew so well. + +"Your Majesty has sent for me," said he. "Here I am; what does your +Majesty desire?" + +"I desire to tell you, my good brother, that as a reward for the great +friendship you bear me I have decided to-day to do for you the thing you +most want." + +"For me?" + +"Yes, for you. Think what for some time you have been dreaming of, +without daring to ask it of me, and I will give it to you." + +"Sire," said François, "I swear to you that I desire nothing but the +continued good health of the King." + +"In that case you will be glad to know, D'Alençon, that the +indisposition I experienced at the time the Poles arrived has passed by. +Thanks to Henriot, I escaped a furious wild boar, which would have +ripped me open, and I am so well that I do not envy the most healthy man +in my kingdom. Without being an unkind brother you can, therefore, ask +for something besides the continuation of my health, which is +excellent." + +"I want nothing, sire." + +"Yes, yes, François," said Charles, impatiently, "you desire the crown +of Navarre, since you have had an understanding with Henriot and De +Mouy,--with the first, that he would abdicate; with the second, that he +would give it to you. Well! Henriot renounces it! De Mouy has told me of +your wish, and this crown for which you are ambitious"-- + +"Well?" asked D'Alençon in a trembling voice. + +"Well, the devil! it is yours." + +D'Alençon turned frightfully pale; then suddenly the blood rushed from +his heart, which almost burst, flowed to his face, and his cheeks became +suffused with a burning flush. The favor the King granted him at that +moment threw him into despair. + +"But, sire," said he, trembling with emotion and trying in vain to +recover his self-possession, "I never desired and certainly never asked +for such a thing." + +"That is possible," said the King, "for you are very discreet, brother; +but it has been desired and asked for you." + +"Sire, I swear to you that never"-- + +"Do not swear." + +"But, sire, are you going to exile me, then?" + +"Do you call this exile, François? Plague it, you are hard to please! +What better do you hope for?" + +D'Alençon bit his lips in despair. + +"Faith!" continued Charles, affecting kindness, "I did not think you +were so popular, François, especially with the Huguenots. But they have +sought you, and I have to confess to myself that I was mistaken. +Besides, I could ask nothing better than to have one of my family--my +brother who loves me and who is incapable of betraying me--at the head +of a party which for thirty years has made war against us. This will +quell everything as if by enchantment, to say nothing of the fact that +we shall all be kings in the family. There will be no one except poor +Henriot who will be nothing but my friend. But he is not ambitious and +he shall take this title which no one else claims." + +"Oh, sire! you are mistaken. I claim this title, and who has a better +right to it than I? Henry is only your brother by marriage. I am your +brother by blood, and more than this, my love--Sire, I beg you, keep me +near you." + +"No, no, François," replied Charles; "that would be to your +unhappiness." + +"How so?" + +"For many reasons." + +"But, sire, shall you ever find as faithful a companion as I am? From my +childhood I have never left your Majesty." + +"I know that very well; and sometimes I have wished you farther away." + +"What does your Majesty mean?" + +"Nothing, nothing; I understand myself. Oh, what fine hunts you will +have there, François! How I envy you! Do you know that in those devilish +mountains they hunt the bear as here we do the wild boar? You will send +us all such magnificent skins! They hunt there with a dagger, you know; +they wait for the animal, excite him, irritate him; he advances towards +the hunter, and when within four feet of him he rises on his hind legs. +It is then that they plunge the steel into his heart as Henry did to the +boar at our last hunt. It is dangerous sport, but you are brave, +François, and the danger will be a real pleasure for you." + +"Ah! your Majesty increases my grief, for I shall hunt with you no +more." + +"By Heaven! so much the better!" said the King. "It helps neither of us +to hunt together." + +"What does your Majesty mean?" + +"That hunting with me causes you such pleasure and rouses in you such +emotion that you who are the personification of skill, you who with any +musket can bring down a magpie a hundred feet away, the last time we +hunted together failed at twenty paces to hit a wild boar; but with your +weapon, a weapon, too, with which you are familiar, you broke the leg of +my best horse. The devil, François, that makes one reflect, you know!" + +"Oh! sire, pardon me, it was from emotion," said D'Alençon, who had +become livid. + +"Yes," replied Charles, "I can well imagine what the emotion was; and it +is on account of this emotion that I realize all that it means when I +say to you: 'Believe me, François, when one has such emotions it is best +for us to hunt at a distance from each other. Think about it, brother, +not while you are with me, because I can see my presence troubles you, +but when you are alone, and you will see that I have every reason to +fear that in another hunt you might be seized with another emotion. +There is nothing like emotion for causing the hand to rise, and you +might kill the rider instead of the horse, the king instead of the +beast. Plague it, a bullet aimed too high or too low changes an entire +government. We have an example of this in our own family. When +Montgommery killed our father, Henry II., by accident--emotion, +perhaps--the blow placed our brother, François II., on the throne and +sent our father Henry to Saint Denis. So little is necessary for +Providence to effect much!" + +The duke felt the perspiration running down his face at this attack, as +formidable as it was unforeseen. + +It would have been impossible for the King to show more clearly that he +had surmised all. Veiling his anger under a jesting manner, Charles was +perhaps more terrible than as if he had let himself pour forth the lava +of hate which was consuming his heart; his vengeance seemed in +proportion to his rancor. As the one grew sharper, the other increased, +and for the first time D'Alençon felt remorse, or rather regret for +having meditated a crime which had not succeeded. He had sustained the +struggle as long as he could, but at this final blow he bent his head, +and Charles saw dawning in his eyes that devouring fire which in beings +of a tender nature ploughs the furrow from which spring tears. + +But D'Alençon was one of those who weep only from anger. Charles fixed +on him his vulture gaze, watching the feelings which succeeded one +another across the face of the young man, and all those sensations +appeared to him as accurately, thanks to the deep study he had made of +his family as if the heart of the duke had been an open book. + +He left him a moment, crushed, motionless, and mute; then in a voice +stamped with the firmness of hatred: + +"Brother," said he, "we have declared to you our resolution; it is +immutable. You will go." + +D'Alençon gave a start, but Charles did not appear to notice it, and +continued: + +"I wish Navarre to be proud of having for king a brother of the King of +France. Gold, power, honor, all that belongs to your birth you shall +have, as your brother Henry had, and like him," he added, smiling, "you +will bless me from afar. But no matter, blessings know no distance." + +"Sire"-- + +"Accept my decision, or rather, resign yourself. Once king, we shall +find a wife for you worthy of a son of France, and she, perhaps, may +bring you another throne." + +"But," said the Duc d'Alençon, "your Majesty forgets your good friend +Henry." + +"Henry! but I told you that he did not want the throne of Navarre! I +told you he had abdicated in favor of you! Henry is a jovial fellow, and +not a pale-face like you. He likes to laugh and amuse himself at his +ease, and not mope, as we who wear crowns are condemned to do." + +D'Alençon heaved a sigh. + +"Your Majesty orders me then to occupy myself"-- + +"No, not at all. Do not disturb yourself at all; I will arrange +everything; rely on me, as on a good brother. And now that everything is +settled, go. However, not a word of our conversation to your friends. I +will take measures to give publicity to the affair very soon. Go now, +François." + +There was nothing further to be said, so the duke bowed and withdrew, +rage in his heart. + +He was very anxious to find Henry and talk with him about all that had +just taken place; but he found only Catharine. As a matter of fact, +Henry wished to avoid the interview, whereas the latter sought for it. + +On seeing Catharine the duke swallowed his anger and strove to smile. +Less fortunate than Henry of Anjou, it was not a mother he sought in +Catharine, but merely an ally. He began therefore by dissimulation, for +in order to make good alliances it is necessary for each party to be +somewhat deceived. + +He met Catharine with a face on which there remained only a slight trace +of anxiety. + +"Well, madame," said he, "here is great news; have you heard it?" + +"I know that there is a plan on hand to make a king of you, monsieur." + +"It is a great kindness on the part of my brother, madame." + +"Is it not?" + +"And I am almost tempted to believe that I owe a part of my gratitude to +you; for it was really you who advised Charles to make me the present of +a throne; it is to you I owe it. However, I will confess that, at heart, +it gives me pain thus to rob the King of Navarre." + +"You love Henriot very much, apparently." + +"Why, yes; we have been intimate for some time." + +"Do you think he loves you as much as you love him?" + +"I hope so, madame." + +"Such a friendship is very edifying; do you know it? especially between +princes. Court friendships mean very little, François." + +"Mother, you must remember we are not only friends, but almost +brothers." + +Catharine smiled a strange smile. + +"Ah," said she, "are there brothers among kings?" + +"Oh! as to that, neither of us was a king, mother, when our intimacy +began. Moreover, we never expected to be kings; that is why we loved +each other." + +"Yes, but things are changed." + +"How changed?" + +"Why, who can say now whether both of you will not be kings?" + +From the nervous start of the duke and the flush which rose to his brow +Catharine saw that the arrow aimed by her had hit the mark. + +"He?" said he, "Henriot king? And of what kingdom, mother?" + +"One of the most magnificent kingdoms in Christendom, my son." + +"Oh! mother," said D'Alençon, growing pale, "what are you saying?" + +"What a good mother ought to say to her son, and what you have thought +of more than once, François." + +"I?" said the duke; "I have thought of nothing, madame, I swear to you." + +"I can well believe you, for your friend, your brother Henry, as you +call him, is, under his apparent frankness, a very clever and wily +person, who keeps his secrets better than you keep yours, François. For +instance, did he ever tell you that De Mouy was his man of business?" + +As she spoke, Catharine turned a glance upon François as though it were +a dagger aimed at his very soul. + +But the latter had but one virtue, or rather vice,--the art of +dissimulation; and he bore her look unflinchingly. + +"De Mouy!" said he in surprise, as if it were the first time he had +heard the name mentioned in that connection. + +"Yes, the Huguenot De Mouy de Saint Phale; the one who nearly killed +Monsieur de Maurevel, and who, secretly and in various disguises, is +running all over France and the capital, intriguing and raising an army +to support your brother Henry against your family." + +Catharine, ignorant that on this point her son François knew as much if +not more than she, rose at these words and started majestically to leave +the room, but François detained her. + +"Mother," said he, "another word, if you please. Since you deign to +initiate me into your politics, tell me how, with his feeble resources, +and being so slightly known, Henry could succeed in carrying on a war +serious enough to disturb my family?" + +"Child," said the queen, smiling, "he is supported by perhaps more than +thirty thousand men; he has but to say the word and these thirty +thousand men will appear as suddenly as if they sprang from the ground; +and these thirty thousand men are Huguenots, remember, that is, the +bravest soldiers in the world, and then he has a protector whom you +neither could nor would conciliate." + +"Who is that?" + +"He has the King, the King, who loves him and who urges him on; the +King, who from jealousy of your brother of Poland, and from spite +against you, is looking about for a successor. But, blind man that you +are if you do not see it, he seeks somewhere else besides in his own +family." + +"The King!--you think so, mother?" + +"Have you not noticed how he loves Henriot, his Henriot?" + +"Yes, mother, yes." + +"And how he is repaid, for this same Henriot, forgetting that his +brother-in-law would have shot him at the massacre of Saint Bartholomew, +grovels to the earth like a dog which licks the hand that has beaten +him." + +"Yes, yes," murmured François, "I have already noticed that Henry is +very humble with my brother Charles." + +"Clever in trying to please him in everything." + +"So much so that because of being always rallied by the King as to his +ignorance of hawking he has begun to study it; and yesterday, yes, it +was only yesterday, he asked me if I had not some books on that sport." + +"Well," said Catharine, whose eyes sparkled as if an idea had suddenly +come to her, "what did you answer him?" + +"That I would look in my library." + +"Good," said Catharine, "he must have this book." + +"But I looked, madame, and found nothing." + +"I will find one--and you shall give it to him as though it came from +you." + +"And what will come of this?" + +"Have you confidence in me, D'Alençon?" + +"Yes, mother." + +"Will you obey me blindly so far as Henry is concerned? For whatever you +may have said you do not love him." + +D'Alençon smiled. + +"And I detest him," continued Catharine. + +"Yes, I will obey you." + +"Well, the day after to-morrow come here for the book; I will give it to +you, you shall take it to Henry, and"-- + +"And?" + +"Leave the rest to Providence or to chance." + +François knew his mother well enough to realize that she was not in the +habit of leaving to Providence or to chance the care of friendships or +hatreds. But he said nothing, and bowing like a man who accepts the +commission with which he is charged, he returned to his own apartments. + +"What does she mean?" thought the young man as he mounted the stairs. "I +cannot see. But what I do understand in all this is that she acts like +our common enemy. Well, let her go ahead." + +Meantime Marguerite, through La Mole, had received a letter from De Mouy +to the King of Navarre. As in politics the two illustrious allies had no +secrets, she opened the letter and read it. + +The letter must have interested her, for, taking advantage of the +darkness which was beginning to overshadow the walls of the Louvre, +Marguerite at once hurried along the secret corridor, ascended the +winding stairway, and, having looked carefully about on all sides, +glided on like a shadow and disappeared within the antechamber of the +King of Navarre. + +This room had been unguarded since the disappearance of Orthon. + +This circumstance, of which we have not spoken since the reader learned +of the tragic fate of poor Orthon, had greatly troubled Henry. He had +spoken of it to Madame de Sauve and to his wife, but neither of them +knew any more about it than he did. Madame de Sauve had given him some +information from which it was perfectly clear to Henry's mind that the +poor boy had been a victim of some machination of the queen mother, and +that this was why he himself had been interrupted with De Mouy in the +inn of the _Belle Étoile_. Any other than Henry would have kept silence, +fearing to speak, but Henry calculated everything. He realized that his +silence would betray him. One does not as a rule lose one's servitor and +confidant thus, without making inquiries about him and looking for him. +So Henry asked and searched even in the presence of the King and the +queen mother, and of every one, from the sentinel who walked before the +gate of the Louvre to the captain of the guards, keeping watch in the +antechamber of the King; but all inquiry and search was in vain, and +Henry seemed so affected by the circumstance and so attached to the poor +absent servitor that he said he would not put another in his place until +he was perfectly sure that Orthon had disappeared forever. + +So the antechamber, as we have said, was empty when Marguerite reached +it. + +Light as were the steps of the queen, Henry heard them and turned round. + +"You, madame!" he exclaimed. + +"Yes," said Marguerite. "Quick! Read this!" and she handed him the open +letter. + +It contained these lines: + + "_Sire: The moment has come for putting our plan of flight into + execution. The day after to-morrow there will be hunting along the + Seine, from Saint Germain to Maisons, that is, all along the + forest._ + + "_Go to the hunt, although it is hawking; wear a good coat of mail + under your suit; take your best sword and ride the best horse in + your stable. About noon, when the chase is at its height, and the + King is galloping after the falcon, escape alone if you come alone; + with the Queen of Navarre if the queen will follow you._ + + "_Fifty of our men will be hidden in the Pavilion of François I., + of which we have the key; no one will know that they will be there, + for they will have come at night, and the shutters will be closed._ + + "_You will pass by the Alley of the Violettes, at the end of which + I shall be watching; at the right of this alley in an open space + will be Messieurs de la Mole and Coconnas, with two horses. These + horses are intended to replace yours and that of her majesty the + Queen of Navarre, if necessary._ + + "_Adieu, sire; be ready, as we shall be._" + +"You will be," said Marguerite, uttering after sixteen hundred years the +same words that Cæsar spoke on the banks of the Rubicon. + +"Be it so, madame," replied Henry; "I will not fail you." + +"Now, sire, be a hero; it is not difficult. You have but to follow the +path that is indicated, and make a beautiful throne for me," said the +daughter of Henry II. + +An imperceptible smile rose to the thin lips of the Béarnais. He kissed +Marguerite's hand, and went out to explore the corridor, whistling the +refrain of an old song: + + "_Cil qui mieux battit la muraille_ + _N'entra pas dedans le chasteau._"[17] + +The precaution was wise, for just as he opened the door of his +sleeping-room the Duc d'Alençon opened that of his antechamber. Henry +motioned to Marguerite, and then, aloud, said: + +"Ah! is it you, brother? Welcome." + +At the sign from her husband the queen had understood everything, and +stepped hurriedly into a dressing-closet, in front of the door of which +hung a thick tapestry. The Duc d'Alençon entered with a timorous step +and looked around him. + +"Are we alone, brother?" asked he in a whisper. + +"Entirely. But what is the matter? You seem disturbed." + +"We are discovered, Henry." + +"How?--discovered?" + +"Yes, De Mouy has been arrested." + +"I know it." + +"Well, De Mouy has told the King all." + +"What has he told him?" + +"He has told him that I desire the throne of Navarre, and that I have +conspired to obtain it." + +"Ah, the stupid!" cried Henry, "so that now you are compromised, my poor +brother! How is it, then, that you have not been arrested?" + +"I do not know. The King joked with me by pretending to offer me the +throne of Navarre. He hoped, no doubt, to draw some confession from me, +but I said nothing." + +"And you did well, _ventre saint gris_!" said the Béarnais. "Stand firm, +for our lives depend on that." + +"Yes," said François, "the position is unsafe, I know. That is why I +came to ask your advice, brother; what do you think I ought to do--run +or stay?" + +"You must have seen the King, since he spoke to you?" + +"Yes, of course." + +"Well! you must have read his thoughts. So follow your inspiration." + +"I prefer to remain," replied François. + +Notwithstanding the fact that he was almost thorough master of himself, +Henry could not prevent a movement of joy from escaping him, and slight +as it was, François saw it. + +"Remain, then," said Henry. + +"But you?" + +"Why!" replied Henry, "if you remain, I have no motive for leaving. I +was going only to follow you from devotion, in order not to be separated +from my brother." + +"So," said D'Alençon, "there is an end to all our plans; you give up +without a struggle at the first stroke of ill luck?" + +"I do not look upon it as a stroke of ill luck to remain here," said +Henry. "Thanks to my careless disposition, I am contented everywhere." + +"Well, then," said D'Alençon, "we need say no more about it, only in +case you decide anything different let me know." + +"By Heaven! I shall not fail to do that, you may be sure," replied +Henry. "Was it not agreed that we were to have no secrets from each +other?" + +D'Alençon said no more, but withdrew, pondering, however; for at one +time he thought he had seen the tapestry in front of the closet move. + +Scarcely was the duke gone when the curtain was raised and Marguerite +reappeared. + +"What do you think of this visit?" asked Henry. + +"That there is something new and important on hand." + +"What do you think it is?" + +"I do not know yet; but I will find out." + +"In the meanwhile?" + +"In the meanwhile do not fail to come to my room to-morrow evening." + +"Indeed I will not fail, madame!" said Henry, gallantly kissing the hand +of his wife. + +With the same caution she had used in coming Marguerite returned to her +own apartments. + + + + +CHAPTER XLIX. + +THE TREATISE ON HUNTING. + + +Three days had elapsed since the events we have just related. Day was +beginning to dawn, but every one was already up and awake at the Louvre +as usual on hunting days, when the Duc d'Alençon entered the apartments +of the queen mother in answer to the invitation he had received. +Catharine was not in her bedroom; but she had left orders that if her +son came he was to wait for her. + +At the end of a few minutes she came out of a private closet, to which +no one but herself had admission, and in which she carried on her +experiments in chemistry. As Catharine entered the room there came +either from the closet or from her clothes the penetrating odor of some +acrid perfume, and through the open door D'Alençon perceived a thick +vapor, as of some burnt aromatic substance, floating in the laboratory +like a white cloud. + +The duke could not repress a glance of curiosity. + +"Yes," said Catharine de Médicis, "I have been burning several old +parchments which gave out such an offensive smell that I put some +juniper into the brazier, hence this odor." + +D'Alençon bowed. + +"Well," said the queen, concealing under the wide sleeves of her +dressing-gown her hands, which here and there were stained with reddish +spots, "is there anything new since yesterday?" + +"Nothing, mother." + +"Have you seen Henry?" + +"Yes." + +"Does he still refuse to leave?" + +"Absolutely." + +"The knave!" + +"What do you say, madame?" + +"I say that he will go." + +"You think so?" + +"I am sure of it." + +"Then he will escape us?" + +"Yes," said Catharine. + +"And shall you let him go?" + +"Not only that, but I tell you he must go." + +"I do not understand, mother." + +"Listen well to what I am about to tell you, François. A very skilful +physician, the one who let me take the book on hunting which you are to +give him, has told me that the King of Navarre is on the point of being +attacked with consumption, one of those incurable diseases for which +science has no remedy. Now, you understand that if he has to die from +such a cruel malady it would be better for him to die away from us than +among us here at court." + +"In fact," said the duke, "that would cause us too much pain." + +"Especially your brother Charles," said Catharine; "whereas, if he dies +after having betrayed him the King will regard his death as a punishment +from Heaven." + +"You are right, mother," said François in admiration, "he must leave. +But are you sure that he will?" + +"All his plans are made. The meeting-place is in the forest of Saint +Germain. Fifty Huguenots are to escort him as far as Fontainebleau, +where five hundred others will await him." + +"And," said D'Alençon, with a slight hesitation and visible pallor, +"will my sister Margot accompany him?" + +"Yes," replied Catharine, "that is agreed on. But at Henry's death +Margot is to return to court a widow and free." + +"And Henry will die, madame? Are you sure of this?" + +"The physician who gave me the book assured me of it." + +"Where is this book, madame?" + +Catharine went slowly towards the mysterious closet, opened the door, +entered, and a moment later appeared with the book in her hand. + +"Here it is," said she. + +D'Alençon looked at the volume with a certain feeling of terror. + +"What is this book, madame?" he asked, shuddering. + +"I have already told you, my son. It is a treatise on the art of raising +and training falcons, gerfalcons, and hawks, written by a very learned +scholar for Lord Castruccio Castracani, tyrant of Lucca." + +"What must I do with it?" + +"Take it to your good friend Henriot, who you told me had asked you for +a treatise on the art of hunting. As he is going hawking to-day with the +King he will not fail to read some of it, in order to prove to Charles +that he has followed his advice and taken a lesson or two. The main +thing is to give it into Henry's own hands." + +"Oh! I do not dare!" said D'Alençon, shuddering. + +"Why not?" asked Catharine; "it is a book like any other except that it +has been packed away for so long that the leaves stick together. Do not +attempt to read it, François, for it can be read only by wetting the +finger and turning over each leaf, and this takes time and trouble." + +"So that only a man who is very anxious to be instructed in the sport of +hawking would waste his time and go to this trouble?" asked D'Alençon. + +"Exactly, my son; you understand." + +"Oh!" said D'Alençon; "there is Henriot in the court-yard. Give me the +book, madame. I will take advantage of his absence and go to his room +with it. On his return he will find it." + +"I should prefer you to give it to him yourself, François, that would be +surer." + +"I have already said that I do not dare, madame," replied the duke. + +"Very well; but at least put it where he can see it." + +"Open? Is there any reason why it should not be open?" + +"None." + +"Then give it to me." + +D'Alençon tremblingly took the book, which Catharine with a firm hand +held out to him. + +"Take it," said the queen, "there is no danger--I touch it; besides, you +have gloves on." + +This precaution was not enough for D'Alençon, who wrapped the volume in +his cloak. + +"Make haste," said Catharine; "Henry may return at any moment." + +"You are right, madame. I will go at once." + +The duke went out, trembling with fright. + +We have often introduced the reader into the apartments of the King of +Navarre, and he has been present at the events which have taken place in +them, events bright or gloomy, according to the smile or frown of the +protecting genius of the future king of France. + +But perhaps never had these walls, stained with the blood of murders, +sprinkled with the wine of orgies, scented with the perfumes of +love,--perhaps never had this corner of the Louvre seen a paler face +than that of the Duc d'Alençon, as with book in hand he opened the door +of the bedchamber of the King of Navarre. And no one, as the duke had +expected, was in the room to question with curious or anxious glances +what he was about to do. The first rays of the morning sun alone were +lighting up the vacant chamber. + +On the wall in readiness hung the sword which Monsieur de Mouy had +advised Henry to take with him. Some links of a coat of mail were +scattered on the floor. A well-filled purse and a small dagger lay on a +table, and some light ashes in the fireplace, joined to the other +evidence, clearly showed D'Alençon that the King of Navarre had put on +the shirt of mail, collected some money from his treasurer, and burned +all papers that might compromise him. + +"My mother was not mistaken," said D'Alençon "the knave would have +betrayed me." + +Doubtless this conviction gave added strength to the young man. He +sounded the corners of the room at a glance, raised the portieres, and +realizing from the loud noise in the court-yard below and the dense +silence in the apartments that no one was there to spy on him, he drew +the book from under his cloak, hastily laid it on the table, near the +purse, propping it up against a desk of sculptured oak; then drawing +back, he reached out his arm, and, with a hesitation which betrayed his +fears, with his gloved hand he opened the volume to an engraving of a +hunt. This done, D'Alençon again stepped back, and drawing off his glove +threw it into the still warm fire, which had just consumed the papers. +The supple leather crackled over the coals, twisted and flattened itself +out like the body of a great reptile, leaving nothing but a burned and +blackened lump. + +D'Alençon waited until the flame had consumed the glove, then rolling up +the cloak which had been wrapped around the book, he put it under his +arm, and hastily returned to his own apartments. As he entered with +beating heart, he heard steps on the winding stairs, and not doubting +but that it was Henry he quickly closed his door. Then he stepped to the +window, but he could see only a part of the court-yard of the Louvre. +Henry was not there, however, and he felt convinced that it was the King +of Navarre who had just returned. + +The duke sat down, opened a book, and tried to read. It was a history of +France from Pharamond to Henry II., for which, a few days after his +accession to the throne, Henry had given a license. + +But the duke's thoughts were not on what he was reading; the fever of +expectation burned in his veins. His temples throbbed clear to his +brain, and as in a dream or some magnetic trance, it seemed to François +that he could see through the walls. His eyes appeared to probe into +Henry's chamber, in spite of the obstacles between. + +In order to drive away the terrible object before his mind's eye the +duke strove to fix his attention on something besides the terrible book +opened on the oak desk; but in vain he looked at his weapons, his +ornaments; in vain he gazed a hundred times at the same spot on the +floor; every detail of the picture at which he had merely glanced +remained graven on his memory. It consisted of a gentleman on horseback +fulfilling the duties of a beater of hawking, throwing the bait, calling +to the falcon, and galloping through the deep grass of a swamp. Strong +as was the duke's will, his memory triumphed over it. + +Then it was not only the book he saw, but the King of Navarre +approaching it, looking at the picture, trying to turn the pages, +finally wetting his thumb and forcing the leaves apart. At this sight, +fictitious and imaginary as it was, D'Alençon staggered and was forced +to lean one hand against a table, while with the other he covered his +eyes, as if by so doing he did not see more clearly than before the +vision he wished to escape. This vision was in his own thoughts. + +Suddenly D'Alençon saw Henry cross the court; he stopped a few moments +before the men who were loading two mules with the provisions for the +chase--none other than the money and other things he wished to take with +him; then, having given his orders, he crossed the court diagonally and +advanced towards the door. + +D'Alençon stood motionless. It was not Henry, then, who had mounted the +secret staircase. All the agony he had undergone during the last quarter +of an hour had been useless. What he thought was over or almost over was +only beginning. + +François opened the door of his chamber, then holding it so he listened. +This time he could not be mistaken, it was Henry himself; he recognized +his step and the peculiar jingle of his spurs. + +Henry's door opened and closed. + +D'Alençon returned to his room and sank into an armchair. + +"Good!" said he, "this is what is now taking place: he has passed +through the antechamber, the first room, the sleeping-room; then he +glances to see if his sword, his purse, his dagger are there; at last he +finds the book open on his table. + +"'What book is this?' he asks himself. 'Who has brought it?' + +"Then he draws nearer, sees the picture of the horseman calling his +falcon, wants to read, tries to turn the leaves." + +A cold perspiration started to the brow of François. + +"Will he call? Is the effect of the poison sudden? No, no, for my mother +said he would die of slow consumption." + +This thought somewhat reassured him. + +Ten minutes passed thus, a century of agony, dragging by second after +second, each supplying all that the imagination could invent in the way +of maddening terror, a world of visions. + +D'Alençon could stand it no longer. He rose and crossed the antechamber, +which was beginning to fill with gentlemen. + +"Good morning, gentlemen," said he, "I am going to the King." + +And to distract his consuming anxiety, and perhaps to prepare an +_alibi_, D'Alençon descended to his brother's apartments. Why did he go +there? He did not know. What had he to say? Nothing! It was not Charles +he sought--it was Henry he fled. + +He took the winding staircase and found the door of the King's +apartments half opened. The guards let the duke enter without +opposition. On hunting days there was neither etiquette nor orders. + +François traversed successively the antechamber, the salon, and the +bedroom without meeting any one. He thought Charles must be in the +armory and opened the door leading thither. + +The King was seated before a table, in a deep carved armchair. He had +his back to the door, and appeared to be absorbed in what he was doing. + +The duke approached on tiptoe; Charles was reading. + +"By Heaven!" cried he, suddenly, "this is a fine book. I had heard of +it, but I did not know it could be had in France." + +D'Alençon listened and advanced a step. + +"Cursed leaves!" said the King, wetting his thumb and applying it to the +pages; "it looks as though they had been stuck together on purpose to +conceal the wonders they contain from the eyes of man." + +D'Alençon bounded forward. The book over which Charles was bending was +the one he had left in Henry's room. A dull cry broke from him. + +"Ah, is it you, François?" said Charles, "you are welcome; come and see +the finest book on hunting which ever came from the pen of man." + +D'Alençon's first impulse was to snatch the volume from the hands of his +brother; but an infernal thought restrained him; a frightful smile +passed over his pallid lips, and he rubbed his hand across his eyes like +a man dazed. Then recovering himself by degrees, but without moving: + +"Sire," he asked, "how did this book come into your Majesty's +possession?" + +"I went into Henriot's room this morning to see if he was ready; he was +not there, he was probably strolling about the kennels or the stables; +at any rate, instead of him I found this treasure, which I brought here +to read at my leisure." + +And the King again moistened his thumb, and again turned over an +obstinate page. + +"Sire," stammered D'Alençon, whose hair stood on end, and whose whole +body was seized with a terrible agony. "Sire, I came to tell you"-- + +"Let me finish this chapter, François," said Charles, "and then you +shall tell me anything you wish. I have read or rather devoured fifty +pages." + +"He has tasted the poison twenty-five times," murmured François; "my +brother is a dead man!" + +Then the thought came to him that there was a God in heaven who perhaps +after all was not chance. + +With trembling hand the duke wiped away the cold perspiration which +stood in drops on his brow, and waited in silence, as his brother had +bade him do, until the chapter was finished. + + + + +CHAPTER L. + +HAWKING. + + +Charles still read. In his curiosity he seemed to devour the pages, and +each page, as we have said, either because of the dampness to which it +had been exposed for so long or from some other cause, adhered to the +next. + +With haggard eyes D'Alençon gazed at this terrible spectacle, the end of +which he alone could see. + +"Oh!" he murmured, "what will happen? I shall go away, into exile, and +seek an imaginary throne, while at the first news of Charles's illness +Henry will return to some fortified town near the capital, and watch +this prey sent us by chance, able at a single stride to reach Paris; so +that before the King of Poland even hears the news of my brother's death +the dynasty will be changed. This cannot be!" + +Such were the thoughts which dominated the first involuntary feeling of +horror that had urged François to warn Charles. It was the never-failing +fatality which seemed to preserve Henry and follow the Valois which the +duke was again going to try to thwart. In an instant his whole plan with +regard to Henry was altered. It was Charles and not Henry who had read +the poisoned book. Henry was to have gone, and gone condemned to die. +The moment fate had again saved him, Henry must remain; for Henry was +less to be feared in the Bastille or as prisoner at Vincennes than as +the King of Navarre at the head of thirty thousand men. + +The Duc d'Alençon let Charles finish his chapter, and when the King had +raised his head: + +"Brother," said the duke, "I have waited because your Majesty ordered me +to do so, but I regret it, because I have something of the greatest +importance to say to you." + +"Go to the devil!" said Charles, whose cheeks were slowly turning a dull +red, either because he had been too much engrossed in his reading or +because the poison had begun to act. "Go to the devil! If you have come +to discuss that same subject again, you shall leave as did the King of +Poland. I rid myself of him, and I will do the same to you without +further talk about it." + +"It is not about my leaving, brother, that I want to speak to you, but +about some one else who is going away. Your Majesty has touched me in my +most sensitive point, my love for you as a brother, my devotion to you +as a subject; and I hope to prove to you that I am no traitor." + +"Well," said Charles, as he leaned his elbow on the book, crossed his +legs, and looked at D'Alençon like a man who is trying to be patient. +"Some fresh report, some accusation?" + +"No, sire, a certainty, a plot, which my foolish scruples alone +prevented my revealing to you before." + +"A plot?" said Charles, "well, let us hear about it." + +"Sire," said François, "while your Majesty hawks near the river in the +plain of Vesinet the King of Navarre will escape to the forest of Saint +Germain, where a troop of friends will be waiting to flee with him." + +"Ah, I knew it," said Charles, "another calumny against my poor Henry! +When will you be through with him?" + +"Your Majesty need not wait long at least to find out whether or not +what I have just had the honor of telling you is a calumny." + +"How so?" + +"Because this evening our brother-in-law will be gone." + +Charles rose. + +"Listen," said he, "I will try for the last time to believe you; but I +warn you, both you and your mother, that it will be the last time." + +Then raising his voice: + +"Summon the King of Navarre!" he cried. + +A guard started to obey, but François stopped him with a gesture. + +"This is a poor way, brother, to learn anything," said he. "Henry will +deny, will give a signal, his accomplices will be warned and will +disappear. Then my mother and myself will be accused not only of being +visionary but of being calumniators." + +"What do you want, then?" + +"In the name of our brotherly love I ask your Majesty to listen to me, +in the name of my devotion, which you will realize, I want you to do +nothing hastily. Act so that the real culprit, who for two years has +been betraying your Majesty in will as well as in deed, may at last be +recognized as guilty by an infallible proof, and punished as he +deserves." + +Charles did not answer, but going to a window raised it. The blood was +rushing to his head. + +Then turning round quickly: + +"Well!" said he, "what would you do? Speak, François." + +"Sire," said D'Alençon, "I would surround the forest of Saint Germain +with three detachments of light horse, who at a given hour, eleven +o'clock, for instance, should start out and drive every one in the +forest to the Pavilion of Francis I., which I would, as if by chance, +have indicated as the meeting-place. Then I would spur on, as if +following my falcon, to the meeting-place, where Henry should be +captured with his companions." + +"The idea is good," said the King; "summon the captain of the guards." + +D'Alençon drew from his doublet a silver whistle, suspended from a gold +chain, and raised it to his lips. + +De Nancey appeared. + +Charles gave him some orders in a low tone. + +Meanwhile Actéon, the great greyhound, had dragged a book from the +table, and was tossing it about the room, making great bounds after it. + +Charles turned round and uttered a terrible oath. The book was the +precious treatise on hunting, of which there existed only three copies +in the world. + +The punishment was proportionate to the offence. + +Charles seized a whip and gave the dog three whistling blows. + +Actéon uttered a howl, and fled under a table covered with a large cloth +which served him as a hiding-place. + +Charles picked up the book and saw with joy that only one leaf was gone, +and that was not a page of the text, but an engraving. He placed the +volume carefully away on a shelf where Actéon could not reach it. +D'Alençon looked anxiously at him. Now that the book had fulfilled its +dread mission he would have liked to see it out of Charles's hands. + +Six o'clock struck. It was time for the King to descend to the +court-yard, already filled with horses richly caparisoned, and elegantly +dressed ladies and gentlemen. The hunters held on their wrists their +hooded falcons; some outriders carried horns wound with scarfs, in case +the King, as sometimes happened, grew weary of hawking, and wished to +hunt a deer or a chamois. + +Charles closed the door of his armory and descended. D'Alençon watched +each movement closely, and saw him put the key in his pocket. + +As he went down the stairs Charles stopped and raised his hand to his +head. + +The limbs of the Duc d'Alençon trembled no less than did those of the +King. + +"It seems to me," said the duke, "that there is going to be a storm." + +"A storm in January!" said Charles; "you are mad. No, I am dizzy, my +skin is dry, I am weak, that is all." + +Then in a low tone: + +"They will kill me," he murmured, "with their hatred and their plots." + +But on reaching the court the fresh morning air, the shouts of the +hunters, the loud greetings of the hundred people gathered there, +produced their usual effect on Charles. + +He breathed freely and happily. His first thought was for Henry, who was +beside Marguerite. + +This excellent couple seemed to care so much for each other that they +were unable to be apart. + +On perceiving Charles, Henry spurred his horse, and in three bounds was +beside him. + +"Ah, ah!" said Charles, "you are mounted as if you were going to hunt +the stag, Henriot; but you know we are going hawking to-day." + +Then without waiting for a reply: + +"Forward, gentlemen, forward! we must be hunting by nine o'clock!" and +Charles frowned and spoke in an almost threatening tone. + +Catharine was watching everything from a window, behind which a curtain +was drawn back, showing her pale face. She herself was dressed in black +and was hidden from view. + +At the order from Charles all this gilded, embroidered, perfumed crowd, +with the King at its head, lengthened out to pass through the gate of +the Louvre, and swept like an avalanche along the road to Saint Germain, +amid the shouts of the people, who saluted the young King as he rode by, +thoughtful and pensive, on his white horse. + +"What did he say to you?" asked Marguerite of Henry. + +"He congratulated me on the speed of my horse." + +"Was that all?" + +"Yes." + +"Then he suspects something." + +"I fear so." + +"Let us be cautious." + +Henry's face lighted up with one of his beautiful smiles, which meant +especially to Marguerite, "Be easy, my love." As to Catharine, scarcely +had the cortège left the court of the Louvre before she dropped the +curtain. + +But she had not failed to see one thing, namely, Henry's pallor, his +nervousness, and his low-toned conversation with Marguerite. + +Henry was pale because, not having physical courage, his blood, under +all circumstances in which his life was at stake, instead of rushing to +his head, as is usually the case, flowed to his heart. He was nervous +because the manner in which he had been received by Charles, so +different from usual, had made a deep impression on him. Finally, he had +conferred with Marguerite because, as we know, the husband and wife had +formed, so far as politics were concerned, an alliance offensive and +defensive. + +But Catharine had interpreted these facts differently. + +"This time," she murmured, with her Florentine smile, "I think I may +rely on my dear Henriot." + +Then to satisfy herself, having waited a quarter of an hour to give the +party time to leave Paris, she went out of her room, mounted the winding +staircase, and with the help of her pass-key opened the door of the +apartments of the King of Navarre. She searched, but in vain, for the +book. In vain she looked on every table, shelf, and in every closet; +nowhere could she find it. + +"D'Alençon must have taken it away," said she, "that was wise." + +And she descended to her own chamber, quite sure this time that her plan +would succeed. + +The King went on towards Saint Germain, which he reached after a rapid +ride of an hour and a half. They did not ascend to the old castle, which +rose dark and majestic in the midst of the houses scattered over the +mountain. They crossed the wooden bridge, which at that time was +opposite the tree to-day called the "Sully Oak." Then they signed for +the boats adorned with flags which followed the hunting-party to aid the +King and his suite in crossing the river. This was done. Instantly all +the joyous procession, animated by such varied interests, again began to +move, led by the King, over the magnificent plain which stretched from +the wooded summit of Saint Germain, and which suddenly assumed the +appearance of a great carpet covered with people, dotted with a thousand +colors, and of which the river foaming along its banks seemed a silver +fringe. + +Ahead of the King, still on his white horse and holding his favorite +falcon, rode the beaters, in their long green close-fitting coats and +high boots, calling now and then to the half dozen great dogs, and +beating, with their whips, the reeds which grew along the river banks. + +At that moment the sun, until then hidden behind a cloud, suddenly burst +forth and lighted with one of its rays all that procession of gold, all +the ornaments, all the glowing eyes, and turned everything into a +torrent of flame. Then, as if it had waited for that moment so that the +sun might shine on its defeat, a heron rose from the midst of the reeds +with a prolonged and plaintiff cry. + +"Haw! Haw!" cried Charles, unhooding his falcon and sending it after the +fugitive. + +"Haw! Haw!" cried every voice to encourage the bird. + +The falcon, dazzled for an instant by the light, turned, described a +circle, then suddenly perceiving the heron, dashed after it. + +But the heron, like a prudent bird, had risen a hundred yards before the +beaters, and while the King had been unhooding his falcon, and while the +latter had been growing accustomed to the light, it had gained a +considerable height, so that by the time its enemy saw it, it had risen +more than five hundred feet, and finding in the higher zones the air +necessary for its powerful wings, continued to mount rapidly. + +"Haw! Haw! Iron Beak!" cried Charles, cheering his falcon. "Show us that +you are a thoroughbred! Haw! Haw!" + +As if it understood the words the noble bird rose like an arrow, +described a diagonal line, then a vertical one, as the heron had done, +and mounted higher as though it would soon disappear in the upper air. + +"Ah! coward!" cried Charles, as if the fugitive could hear him, and, +spurring his horse, he followed the flight of the birds as far as he +could, his head thrown back so as not to lose sight of them for an +instant. "Ah! double coward! You run! My Iron Beak is a thoroughbred; +on! on! Haw, Iron Beak! Haw!" + +The contest was growing exciting. The birds were beginning to approach +each other, or rather the falcon was nearing the heron. The only +question was which could rise the higher. + +Fear had stronger wings than courage. The falcon passed under the heron, +and the latter, profiting by its advantage, dealt a blow with its long +beak. + +The falcon, as though hit by a dagger, described three circles, +apparently overcome, and for an instant it looked as if the bird would +fall. But like a warrior, who when wounded rises more terrible than +before, it uttered a sharp and threatening cry, and went after the +heron. The latter, making the most of its advantage, had changed the +direction of its flight and turned toward the forest, trying this time +to gain in distance instead of in height, and so escape. But the falcon +was indeed a thoroughbred, with the eye of a gerfalcon. + +It repeated the same manoeuvre, rose diagonally after the heron, which +gave two or three cries of distress and strove to rise perpendicularly +as at first. + +At the end of a few seconds the two birds seemed again about to +disappear. The heron looked no larger than a lark, and the falcon was a +black speck which every moment grew smaller. + +Neither Charles nor his suite any longer followed the flight of the +birds. Each one stopped, his eyes fixed on the clouds. + +"Bravo! Bravo! Iron-beak!" cried Charles, suddenly. "See, see, +gentlemen, he is uppermost! Haw! haw!" + +"Faith, I can see neither of them," said Henry. + +"Nor I," said Marguerite. + +"Well, but if you cannot see them, Henry, you can hear them," said +Charles, "at least the heron. Listen! listen! he asks quarter!" + +Two or three plaintive cries were heard which a practised ear alone +could detect. + +"Listen!" cried Charles, "and you will see them come down more quickly +than they went up." + +As the King spoke, the two birds reappeared. They were still only two +black dots, but from the size of the dots the falcon seemed to be +uppermost. + +"See! see!" cried Charles, "Iron Beak has him!" + +The heron, outwitted by the bird of prey, no longer strove to defend +itself. It descended rapidly, constantly struck at by the falcon, and +answered only by its cries. Suddenly it folded its wings and dropped +like a stone; but its adversary did the same, and when the fugitive +again strove to resume its flight a last blow of the beak finished it; +it continued to fall, turning over and over, and as it touched the earth +the falcon swooped down and uttered a cry of victory which drowned the +cry of defeat of the vanquished. + +"To the falcon! the falcon!" shouted Charles, spurring his horse to the +place where the birds had fallen. But suddenly he reined in his steed, +uttered a cry, dropped his bridle, and grasping his horse's mane with +one hand pressed the other to his stomach as though he would tear out +his very vitals. + +All the courtiers hastened to him. + +"It is nothing, nothing," said Charles, with inflamed face and haggard +eye; "it seemed as if a red-hot iron were passing through me just now; +but forward! it is nothing." + +And Charles galloped on. + +D'Alençon turned pale. + +"What now?" asked Henry of Marguerite. + +"I do not know," replied she; "but did you see? My brother was purple in +the face." + +"He is not usually so," said Henry. + +The courtiers glanced at one another in surprise and followed the King. + +They arrived at the scene of combat. The falcon had already begun to +peck at the head of the heron. + +Charles sprang from his horse to obtain a nearer view; but on alighting +he was obliged to seize hold of the saddle. The ground seemed to spin +under him. He felt very sleepy. + +"Brother! Brother!" cried Marguerite; "what is the matter?" + +"I feel," said Charles, "as Portia must have felt when she swallowed her +burning coals. I am burning up and my breath seems on fire." + +Charles exhaled his breath and seemed surprised not to see fire issue +from his lips. + +The falcon had been caught and hooded again, and every one had gathered +around the King. + +"Why, what does it mean? Great Heavens! It cannot be anything, or if it +is it must be the sun which is affecting my head and blinding my eyes. +So on, on, to the hunt, gentlemen! There is a whole flight of herons. +Unhood the falcons, all of them, by Heaven! now for some sport!" + +Instantly five or six falcons were unhooded and let loose. They rose in +the direction of the prey, while the entire party, the King at their +head, reached the bank of the river. + +"Well! what do you say, madame?" asked Henry of Marguerite. + +"That the moment is favorable, and that if the King does not look back +we can easily reach the forest from here." + +Henry called the attendant who was carrying the heron, and while the +noisy, gilded avalanche swept along the road which to-day is a terrace +he remained behind as if to examine the dead bird. + + + + +CHAPTER LI. + +THE PAVILION OF FRANÇOIS I. + + +Hawking was a beautiful sport as carried on by kings, when kings were +almost demi-gods, and when the chase was not only a pastime but an art. + +Nevertheless we must leave the royal spectacle to enter a part of the +forest where the actors in the scene we have just described will soon +join us. + +The Allée des Violettes was a long, leafy arcade and mossy retreat in +which, among lavender and heather, a startled hare now and then pricked +up its ears, and a wandering stag raised its head heavy with horns, +opened its nostrils, and listened. To the right of this alley was an +open space far enough from the road to be invisible, but not so far but +that the road could be seen from it. + +In the middle of the clearing two men were lying on the grass. Under +them were travellers' cloaks, at their sides long swords, and near each +of them a musketoon (then called a petronel) with the muzzle turned from +them. In the richness of their costume they resembled the joyous +characters of the "Decameron;" on closer view, by the threatening aspect +of their weapons, they seemed like those forest robbers whom a hundred +years later Salvator Rosa painted from nature in his landscapes. One of +them was leaning on his hand and on one knee, listening as attentively +as the hare or deer we mentioned above. + +"It seems to me," said this one, "that the hunt was very near us just +now. I heard the cries of the hunters cheering the falcon." + +"And now," said the other, who seemed to await events with much more +philosophy than his companion, "now I hear nothing more; they must have +gone away. I told you this was a poor place from which to see anything. +We cannot be seen, it is true; but we cannot see, either." + +"The devil! my dear Annibal," said the first speaker, "we had to put our +horses somewhere, as well as the mules, which, by the way, are so +heavily laden that I do not see how they can follow us. Now I know that +these old beeches and oaks are perfectly suited to this difficult task. +I should venture to say that far from blaming Monsieur de Mouy as you +are doing, I recognize in every detail of the enterprise he is directing +the common sense of a true conspirator." + +"Good!" said the second gentleman, whom no doubt our reader has already +recognized as Coconnas; "good! that is the word! I expected it! I relied +on you for it! So we are conspiring?" + +"We are not conspiring; we are serving the king and the queen." + +"Who are conspiring and which amounts to the same for us." + +"Coconnas, I have told you," said La Mole, "that I do not in the least +force you to follow me in this affair. I have undertaken it only because +of a particular sentiment, which you can neither feel nor share." + +"Well, by Heaven! Who said that you were forcing me? In the first place, +I know of no one who could compel Coconnas, to do what he did not wish +to do; but do you suppose that I would let you go without following you, +especially when I see that you are going to the devil?" + +"Annibal! Annibal!" said La Mole, "I think that I see her white palfrey +in the distance. Oh! it is strange how my heart throbs at the mere +thought of her coming!" + +"Yes, it is strange," said Coconnas, yawning; "my heart does not throb +in the least." + +"It is not she," said La Mole. "What can have happened? They were to be +here at noon, I thought." + +"It happens that it is not noon," said Coconnas, "that is all, and, +apparently, we still have time to take a nap." + +So saying, Coconnas stretched himself on his cloak like a man who is +about to add practice to precept; but as his ear touched the ground he +raised his finger and motioned La Mole to be silent. + +"What is it?" asked the latter. + +"Hush! this time I am sure I hear something." + +"That is singular; I have listened, but I hear nothing." + +"Nothing?" + +"No." + +"Well!" said Coconnas, rising and laying his hand on La Mole's arm, +"look at that deer." + +"Where?" + +"Yonder." + +Coconnas pointed to the animal. + +"Well?" + +"Well, you will see." + +La Mole watched the deer. With head bent forward as though about to +browse it listened without stirring. Soon it turned its head, covered +with magnificent branching horns, in the direction from which no doubt +the sound came. Then suddenly, without apparent cause, it disappeared +like a flash of lightning. + +"Oh!" said La Mole, "I believe you are right, for the deer has fled." + +"Because of that," said Coconnas, "it must have heard what you have not +heard." + +In short, a faint, scarcely perceptible sound quivered vaguely through +the passes; to less practised ears it would have seemed like the breeze; +for the two men it was the far-off galloping of horses. In an instant La +Mole was on his feet. + +"Here they are!" said he; "quick." + +Coconnas rose, but more calmly. The energy of the Piedmontese seemed to +have passed into the heart of La Mole, while on the other hand the +indolence of the latter seemed to have taken possession of his friend. +One acted with enthusiasm; the other with reluctance. Soon a regular and +measured sound struck the ear of the two friends. The neighing of a +horse made the coursers they had tied ten paces away prick up their +ears, as through the alley there passed like a white shadow a woman who, +turning towards them, made a strange sign and disappeared. + +"The queen!" they exclaimed together. + +"What can it mean?" asked Coconnas. + +"She made a sign," said La Mole, "which meant 'presently.'" + +"She made a sign," said Coconnas, "which meant 'flee!'" + +"The signal meant 'wait for me.'" + +"The signal meant 'save yourself.'" + +"Well," said La Mole, "let each act on his own conviction; you leave and +I will remain." + +Coconnas shrugged his shoulders and lay down again. + +At that moment in the opposite direction from that in which the queen +was going, but in the same alley, there passed at full speed a troop of +horsemen whom the two friends recognized as ardent, almost rabid +Protestants. Their steeds bounded like the locusts of which Job said, +'They came and went.'" + +"The deuce! the affair is growing serious," said Coconnas, rising. "Let +us go to the pavilion of François I." + +"No," said La Mole; "if we are discovered it will be towards the +pavilion that the attention of the King will be at first directed, since +that is the general meeting-place." + +"You may be right, this time," grumbled Coconnas. + +Scarcely had Coconnas uttered these words before a horseman passed among +the trees like a flash of lightning, and leaping ditches, bushes, and +all barriers reached the two gentlemen. + +He held a pistol in each hand and with his knees alone guided his horse +in its furious chase. + +"Monsieur de Mouy!" exclaimed Coconnas, uneasy and now more on the alert +than La Mole; "Monsieur de Mouy running away! Every one for himself, +then!" + +"Quick! quick!" cried the Huguenot; "away! all is lost! I have come +around to tell you so. Away!" + +As if he had not stopped to utter these words, he was gone almost before +they were spoken, and before La Mole and Coconnas realized their +meaning. + +"And the queen?" cried La Mole. + +But the young man's voice was lost in the distance; De Mouy was too far +away either to hear or to answer him. + +Coconnas had speedily made up his mind. While La Mole stood motionless, +gazing after De Mouy, who had disappeared among the trees, he ran to the +horses, led them out, sprang on his own, and, throwing the bridle of the +other to La Mole, prepared to gallop off. + +"Come! come!" cried he; "I repeat what De Mouy said: Let us be off! De +Mouy knows what he is doing. Come, La Mole, quick!" + +"One moment," said La Mole; "we came here for something." + +"Unless it is to be hanged," replied Coconnas, "I advise you to lose no +more time. I know you are going to parse some rhetoric, paraphrase the +word 'flee,' speak of Horace, who hurled his buckler, and Epaminondas, +who was brought back on his. But I tell you one thing, when Monsieur de +Mouy de Saint Phale flees all the world may run too." + +"Monsieur de Mouy de Saint Phale," said La Mole, "was not charged to +carry off Queen Marguerite! Nor does Monsieur de Mouy de Saint Phale +love Queen Marguerite!" + +"By Heaven! he is right if this love would make him do such foolish +things as you plan doing. May five hundred thousand devils from hell +take away the love which may cost two brave gentlemen their heads! By +Heaven! as King Charles says, we are conspiring, my dear fellow; and +when plans fail one must run. Mount! mount, La Mole!" + +"Mount yourself, my dear fellow, I will not prevent you. I even urge you +to do so. Your life is more precious than mine. Defend it, therefore." + +"You must say to me: 'Coconnas, let us be hanged together,' and not +'Coconnas, save yourself.'" + +"Bah! my friend," replied La Mole, "the rope is made for clowns, not for +gentlemen like ourselves." + +"I am beginning to think," said Coconnas, "that the precaution I took is +not bad." + +"What precaution?" + +"To have made friends with the hangman." + +"You are sinister, my dear Coconnas." + +"Well, what are we going to do?" cried the latter, impatiently. + +"Set out and find the queen." + +"Where?" + +"I do not know--seek the king." + +"Where?" + +"I have not the least idea; but we must find him, and we two by +ourselves can do what fifty others neither could nor would dare to do." + +"You appeal to my pride, Hyacinthe; that is a bad sign." + +"Well! come; to horse and away!" + +"A good suggestion!" + +La Mole turned to seize the pommel of his saddle, but just as he put his +foot in the stirrup an imperious voice was heard: + +"Halt there! surrender!" + +At the same moment the figure of a man appeared behind an oak, then +another, then thirty. They were the light-horse, who, dismounted, had +glided on all fours in and out among the bushes, searching the forest. + +"What did I tell you?" murmured Coconnas, in a low tone. + +A dull groan was La Mole's only answer. + +The light-horse were still thirty paces away from the two friends. + +"Well!" continued the Piedmontese, in a loud tone, to the lieutenant of +the dragoons. "What is it, gentlemen?" + +The lieutenant ordered his men to aim. + +Coconnas continued under breath: + +"Mount, La Mole, there is still time. Spring into your saddle as I have +seen you do hundreds of times, and let us be off." + +Then turning to the light-horse: + +"The devil, gentlemen, do not fire; you would kill friends." + +Then to La Mole: + +"Between the trees they cannot aim well; they will fire and miss us." + +"Impossible," said La Mole, "we cannot take Marguerite's horse with us +or the two mules. They would compromise us, whereas by my replies I can +avert all suspicion. Go, my friend, go!" + +"Gentlemen," said Coconnas, drawing his sword and raising it, +"gentlemen, we surrender." + +The light-horse dropped their muskets. + +"But first tell us why we must do so?" + +"You must ask that of the King of Navarre." + +"What crime have we committed?" + +"Monsieur d'Alençon will inform you." + +Coconnas and La Mole looked at each other. The name of their enemy at +such a moment did not greatly reassure them. + +Yet neither of them made any resistance. Coconnas was asked to dismount, +a manoeuvre which he executed without a word. Then both were placed in +the centre of the light-horse and took the road to the pavilion. + +"You always wanted to see the pavilion of François I.," said Coconnas to +La Mole, perceiving through the trees the walls of a beautiful Gothic +structure; "now it seems you will." + +La Mole made no reply, but merely extended his hand to Coconnas. + +By the side of this lovely pavilion, built in the time of Louis XII., +and named after François I., because the latter always chose it as a +meeting-place when he hunted, was a kind of hut built for prickers, +partly hidden behind the muskets, halberds, and shining swords like an +ant-hill under a whitening harvest. + +The prisoners were conducted to this hut. + +We will now relate what had happened and so throw some light on the +situation, which looked very dark, especially for the two friends. + +The Protestant gentlemen had assembled, as had been agreed on, in the +pavilion of François I., of which, as we know, De Mouy had the key. + +Masters of the forest, or at least so they had believed, they had placed +sentinels here and there whom the light-horse, having exchanged their +white scarfs for red ones (a precaution due to the ingenious zeal of +Monsieur de Nancey), had surprised and carried away without a blow. + +The light-horse had continued their search surrounding the pavilion; but +De Mouy, who, as we know, was waiting for the king at the end of the +Allée des Violettes, had perceived the red scarfs stealing along and had +instantly suspected them. He sprang to one side so as not to be seen, +and noticed that the vast circle was narrowing in such a way as to beat +the forest and surround the meeting-place. At the same time, at the end +of the principal alley, he had caught a glimpse of the white aigrettes +and the shining arquebuses of the King's bodyguard. + +Finally he saw the King himself, while in the opposite direction he +perceived the King of Navarre. + +Then with his hat he had made a sign of the cross, which was the signal +agreed on to indicate that all was lost. + +At this signal the king had turned back and disappeared. De Mouy at once +dug the two wide rowels of his spurs into the sides of his horse and +galloped away, shouting as he went the words of warning which we have +mentioned, to La Mole and Coconnas. + +Now the King, who had noticed the absence of Henry and Marguerite, +arrived, escorted by Monsieur d'Alençon, just as the two men came out of +the hut to which he had said that all those found, not only in the +pavilion but in the forest, were to be conducted. + +D'Alençon, full of confidence, galloped close by the King, whose sharp +pains were augmenting his ill humor. Two or three times he had nearly +fainted and once he had vomited blood. + +"Come," said he on arriving, "let us make haste; I want to return to the +Louvre. Bring out all these rascals from their hole. This is Saint +Blaise's day; he was cousin to Saint Bartholomew." + +At these words of the King the entire mass of pikes and muskets began to +move, and one by one the Huguenots were forced out not only from the +forest and the pavilion but from the hut. + +But the King of Navarre, Marguerite, and De Mouy were not there. + +"Well," said the King, "where is Henry? Where is Margot? You promised +them to me, D'Alençon, and, by Heaven, they will have to be found!" + +"Sire, we have not even seen the King and the Queen of Navarre." + +"But here they are," said Madame de Nevers. + +At that moment, at the end of an alley leading to the river, Henry and +Margot came in sight, both as calm as if nothing had happened; both with +their falcons on their wrists, riding lovingly side by side, so that as +they galloped along their horses, like themselves, seemed to be +caressing each other. + +It was then that D'Alençon, furious, commanded the forest to be +searched, and that La Mole and Coconnas were found within their ivy +bower. They, too, in brotherly proximity entered the circle formed by +the guards; only, as they were not sovereigns, they could not assume so +calm a manner as Henry and Marguerite. La Mole was too pale and Coconnas +too red. + + + + +CHAPTER LII. + +THE EXAMINATION. + + +The spectacle which struck the young men as they entered the circle, +although seen but for a few moments, was one never to be forgotten. + +As we have said, Charles IX. had watched the gentlemen as the guards led +them one by one from the pricker's hut. + +Both he and D'Alençon anxiously followed every movement, waiting to see +the King of Navarre come out. Both, however, were doomed to +disappointment. But it was not enough to know that the king was not +there, it was necessary to find out what had become of him. + +Therefore when the young couple were seen approaching from the end of +the alley, D'Alençon turned pale, while Charles felt his heart grow +glad; he instinctively desired that everything his brother had forced +him to do should fall back on the duke. + +"He will outwit us again," murmured François, growing still paler. + +At that moment the King was seized with such violent pains that he +dropped his bridle, pressed both hands to his sides, and shrieked like a +madman. + +Henry hastily approached him, but by the time he had traversed the few +hundred feet which separated them, Charles had recovered. + +"Whence do you come, monsieur?" said the King, with a sternness that +frightened Marguerite. + +"Why, from the hunt, brother," replied she. + +"The hunt was along the river bank, and not in the forest." + +"My falcon swooped down on a pheasant just as we stopped behind every +one to look at the heron." + +"Where is the pheasant?" + +"Here; a beautiful bird, is it not?" + +And Henry, in perfect innocence, held up his bird of purple, blue, and +gold plumage. + +"Ah!" said Charles, "and this pheasant caught, why did you not rejoin +me?" + +"Because the bird had directed its flight towards the park, sire, and +when we returned to the river bank we saw you half a mile ahead of us, +riding towards the forest. We set out to gallop after you, therefore, +for being in your Majesty's hunting-party we did not wish to lose you." + +"And were all these gentlemen invited also?" said Charles. + +"What gentlemen?" asked Henry, casting an inquiring look about. + +"Why, your Huguenots, by Heaven!" said Charles; "at all events if they +were invited it was not by me." + +"No, sire," replied Henry, "but possibly Monsieur d'Alençon asked them." + +"Monsieur d'Alençon? How so?" + +"I?" said the duke. + +"Why, yes, brother," said Henry; "did you not announce yesterday that +you were King of Navarre? The Huguenots who demanded you for their king +have come to thank you for having accepted the crown, and the King for +having given it. Is it not so, gentlemen?" + +"Yes! yes!" cried twenty voices. "Long live the Duc d'Alençon! Long live +King Charles!" + +"I am not king of the Huguenots," said François, white with anger; then, +glancing stealthily at Charles, "and I sincerely trust I never shall +be!" + +"No matter!" said Charles, "but you must know, Henry, that I consider +all this very strange." + +"Sire," said the King of Navarre, firmly, "God forgive me, but one would +say that I were undergoing an examination." + +"And if I should tell you that you were, what would you answer?" + +"That I am a king like yourself, sire," replied Henry, proudly, "for it +is not the crown but birth that makes royalty, and that I would gladly +answer any questions from my brother and my friend, but never from my +judge." + +"And yet," murmured Charles, "I should really like to know for once in +my life how to act." + +"Let Monsieur de Mouy be brought out," said D'Alençon, "and then you +will know. Monsieur de Mouy must be among the prisoners." + +"Is Monsieur de Mouy here?" asked the King. + +Henry felt a moment's anxiety and exchanged glances with Marguerite; but +his uneasiness was of short duration. + +No voice replied. + +"Monsieur de Mouy is not among the prisoners," said Monsieur de Nancey; +"some of our men think they saw him, but no one is sure of it." + +D'Alençon uttered an oath. + +"Well!" said Marguerite, pointing to La Mole and Coconnas, who had heard +all that had passed, and on whose intelligence she felt she could +depend, "there are two gentlemen in the service of Monsieur d'Alençon; +question them; they will answer." + +The duke felt the blow. + +"I had them arrested on purpose to prove that they do not belong to me," +said he. + +The King looked at the two friends and started on seeing La Mole again. + +"Ah! that Provençal here?" said he. + +Coconnas bowed graciously. + +"What were you doing when you were arrested?" asked the King. + +"Sire, we were planning deeds of war and of love." + +"On horseback, armed to the teeth, ready for flight!" + +"No, sire," said Coconnas; "your Majesty is misinformed. We were lying +under the shade of a beech tree--_sub tegmine fagi_." + +"Ah! so you were lying under the shade of a beech tree?" + +"And we might easily have escaped had we thought that in any way we had +roused your Majesty's anger. Now, gentlemen, on your honor as soldiers," +continued Coconnas, turning to the light-horse, "do you not think that +had we so wished we could have escaped?" + +"The fact is," said the lieutenant, "that these gentlemen did not even +attempt to run." + +"Because their horses were too far away," said the Duc d'Alençon. + +"I humbly beg monseigneur's pardon," said Coconnas; "but I was on mine, +and my friend the Comte Lerac de la Mole was holding his by the bridle." + +"Is this true, gentlemen?" said the King. + +"Yes, sire," replied the lieutenant; "on seeing us Monsieur de Coconnas +even dismounted." + +Coconnas smiled in a way which signified, "You see, sire!" + +"But the other horses, the mules, and the boxes with which they were +laden?" asked François. + +"Well," said Coconnas, "are we stable boys? Send for the groom who had +charge of them." + +"He is not here," exclaimed the duke, furious. + +"Then he must have become frightened and run away," said Coconnas; "one +cannot expect a clown to have the manners of a gentleman." + +"Always the same system," said D'Alençon, gnashing his teeth. +"Fortunately, sire, I told you that for some time these gentlemen have +not been in my service." + +"I!" exclaimed Coconnas, "am I unfortunate enough no longer to belong to +your highness?" + +"By Heaven! monsieur, you ought to know that better than any one, since +you yourself gave me your dismissal, in a letter so impertinent that, +thank God, I kept it, and fortunately have it with me." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Coconnas, "I had hoped that your highness would forgive +me for a letter written under the first impulse of anger. I had been +told that your highness had tried to strangle my friend La Mole in one +of the corridors of the Louvre." + +"What is he saying?" interrupted the King. + +"At first I thought your highness was alone," continued Coconnas, +ingenuously, "but afterwards I learned that three others"-- + +"Silence!" exclaimed Charles; "we have heard enough. Henry," said he to +the King of Navarre, "your word not to try to escape." + +"I give it to your Majesty, sire." + +"Return to Paris with Monsieur de Nancey, and remain in your chamber +under arrest. You, gentlemen," continued he, addressing the two friends, +"give up your swords." + +La Mole looked at Marguerite. She smiled. La Mole at once handed his +sword to the nearest officer. Coconnas did the same. + +"Has Monsieur de Mouy been found?" asked the King. + +"No, sire," said Monsieur de Nancey; "either he was not in the forest or +he escaped." + +"So much the worse," said the King; "but let us return. I am cold and +dizzy." + +"Sire, it is from anger, probably," said François. + +"Possibly; but my eyes trouble me. Where are the prisoners? I cannot see +them. Is it night already? Oh! mercy! I am burning up! Help! Help!" + +The unfortunate King dropped the bridle of his horse, stretched out his +arms, and fell backward. The courtiers, frightened at this second +attack, caught him as he fell. + +François, standing apart, wiped the perspiration from his brow, for he +alone knew the cause of the trouble from which his brother was +suffering. + +On the other side the King of Navarre, already under the guard of +Monsieur de Nancey, looked upon the scene with growing astonishment. + +"Well! well!" murmured he, with that wonderful intuition which at times +made him seem inspired, "was I perhaps fortunate in having been stopped +in my flight?" + +He glanced at Margot, whose great eyes, wide open with surprise, were +looking first at him and then at the King. + +This time Charles was unconscious. A litter was brought and he was laid +on it. They covered him with a cloak, taken from the shoulders of one of +the courtiers. The procession silently set out in the direction of +Paris, whence that morning light-hearted conspirators and a happy King +had started forth, and to which now a dying King was returning, +surrounded by rebel prisoners. + +Marguerite, who throughout all this had lost neither the control of her +mind nor body, gave her husband a look of intelligence; then, passing so +close to La Mole that the latter was able to catch the following two +Greek words, she said: + +"_Me deide_," which meant, "Fear nothing." + +"What did she say?" asked Coconnas. + +"She told me to fear nothing," replied La Mole. + +"So much the worse," murmured the Piedmontese, "so much the worse; that +means that it is not good for us to be here. Every time that word has +been said to me in an encouraging tone I have either received a bullet +or a sword-thrust in my body, or a flower pot on my head. 'Fear +nothing,' whether in Hebrew, Greek, Latin, or French, has always meant +for me: 'Take care!'" + +"Forward, gentlemen!" said the lieutenant of the light-horse. + +"Without being indiscreet, monsieur," said Coconnas, "may we know where +we are going?" + +"To Vincennes, I think," said the lieutenant. + +"I would rather go elsewhere," said Coconnas; "but one does not always +go just where one wishes." + +On the way the King recovered consciousness and some strength. + +At Nanterre he even wanted to ride, but this was not allowed. + +"Summon Maître Ambroise Paré," said Charles, on reaching the Louvre. + +He descended from his litter, ascended the stairs, leaning on the arm of +Tavannes, and entered his apartment, giving orders that no one be +allowed to follow him. + +Every one had noticed that he seemed very grave. During the journey he +had been in a deep study, not addressing a word to any one, concerned +neither with conspiracy nor conspirators. It was evident that he was +occupied with his illness; a malady so sudden, so strange, so severe, +some of the symptoms of which had been noticed in his brother François +II. a short time before his death. + +So the order to admit no one whomsoever to his rooms, except Maître +Paré, caused no surprise. It was well known that the prince was a +misanthrope. Charles entered his sleeping-room, seated himself in a +folding-chair, and leaned his head against the cushions. Then reflecting +that Maître Ambroise Paré might not be at home, and that there might be +some delay before he saw him, he decided to employ the intervening time. + +He clapped his hands, thus summoning a guard. + +"Say to the King of Navarre that I wish to speak with him," said +Charles. + +The man bowed and withdrew. + +Just then Charles's head fell back, a great weight seemed to oppress +him; his ideas grew confused; it was as if a sort of bloody vapor were +floating before his eyes; his mouth was dry, although he had already +swallowed a whole carafe of water. + +While he was in this drowsy state the door opened and Henry appeared. +Monsieur de Nancey had followed him, but stopped in the antechamber. + +The King of Navarre waited until the door was closed. Then he advanced. + +"Sire," said he, "you sent for me; I am here." + +The King started at the voice and mechanically extended his hand. + +"Sire," said Henry, letting his arms hang at his side, "your Majesty +forgets that I am no longer your brother but your prisoner." + +"Ah! that is true," said Charles. "Thank you for having reminded me of +it. Moreover, it seems to me that when we last spoke together you +promised to answer frankly what I might ask you." + +"I am ready to keep my word, sire. Ask your questions." + +The King poured some cold water into his hand and applied it to his +forehead. + +"Tell me, Henry, how much truth is there in the accusation brought +against you by the Duc d'Alençon?" + +"Only a little. It was Monsieur d'Alençon who was to have fled, and I +who was to have accompanied him." + +"And why should you have gone with him? Are you dissatisfied with me, +Henry?" + +"No, sire; on the contrary, I have only praise for your majesty; and +God, who reads our hearts, knows how deeply I love my brother and my +King." + +"It seems to me," said Charles, "that it is not natural to flee from +those we love and who love us." + +"I was not fleeing from those who love me; I was fleeing from those who +hate me. Will your Majesty permit me to speak openly?" + +"Speak, monsieur." + +"Those who hate me, sire, are Monsieur d'Alençon and the queen mother." + +"As for Monsieur d'Alençon I will not answer; but the queen mother +overwhelms you with attentions." + +"That is just why I mistrust her, sire. And I do well to do so." + +"Mistrust her?" + +"Her, or those about her. You know, sire, that the misfortune of kings +is not always that they are too little but that they are too well +served." + +"Explain yourself; you promised to tell me everything." + +"Your Majesty will see that I will do so." + +"Continue." + +"Your Majesty loves me, you have said." + +"I loved you before your treason, Henry." + +"Pretend that you still love me, sire." + +"Very well." + +"If you love me you must want me to live, do you not?" + +"I should be wretched were any harm to befall you." + +"Well, sire, twice your Majesty has just escaped being wretched." + +"How so?" + +"Twice Providence has saved my life. It is true that the second time +Providence assumed the features of your Majesty?" + +"What form did it assume the first time?" + +"That of a man who would be greatly surprised to see himself mistaken +for Providence; I mean Réné. You, sire, saved me from steel." + +Charles frowned, for he remembered the night when he had taken Henry to +the Rue des Barres. + +"And Réné?" said he. + +"Réné saved me from poison." + +"The deuce, Henriot, you have luck," said the King, trying to smile. But +a quick spasm of pain changed the effort into a nervous contraction of +the lips. "That is not his profession." + +"Two miracles saved me, sire. A miracle of repentance on the part of the +Florentine, and a miracle of goodness on your part. Well! I will confess +to your Majesty that I am afraid Heaven will grow weary of working +miracles, and I tried to run away, because of the proverb: 'Heaven helps +those who help themselves.'" + +"Why did you not tell me this sooner, Henriot?" + +"Had I uttered these words yesterday I should have been a denunciator." + +"And to-day?" + +"To-day is different--I am accused and I am defending myself." + +"Are you sure of the first attempt, Henriot?" + +"As sure as I am of the second." + +"And they tried to poison you?" + +"Yes." + +"With what?" + +"With an opiate." + +"How could they poison you with an opiate?" + +"Why, sire, ask Réné; poisoning is done with gloves"-- + +Charles frowned; then by degrees his brow cleared. + +"Yes," said he, as if speaking to himself. "It is the nature of wild +creatures to flee from death. Why, then, should not knowledge do what +instinct does?" + +"Well, sire!" said Henry, "is your Majesty satisfied with my frankness, +and do you believe that I have told you everything?" + +"Yes, Henriot, and you are a good fellow. Do you think that those who +hate you have grown weary, or will new attempts be made on your life?" + +"Sire, every evening I am surprised to find myself still living." + +"It is because they know I love you, Henriot, that they wish to kill +you. But do not worry. They shall be punished for their evil intentions. +Meanwhile you are free." + +"Free to leave Paris, sire?" asked Henry. + +"No; you well know that I cannot possibly do without you. In the name of +a thousand devils! I must have some one here who loves me." + +"Then, sire, if your Majesty keep me with you, will you grant me a +favor"-- + +"What is it?" + +"Not to keep me as a friend, but as a prisoner. Yes; does not your +Majesty see that it is your friendship for me that is my ruin?" + +"Would you prefer my hatred?" + +"Your apparent hatred, sire. It will save me. As soon as they think I am +in disgrace they will be less anxious for my death." + +"Henriot," said Charles, "I know neither what you desire, nor what +object you seek; but if your wishes do not succeed, and if your object +is not accomplished, I shall be greatly surprised." + +"I may, then, count on the severity of the King?" + +"Yes." + +"In that case I shall be less uneasy. Now what are your Majesty's +commands?" + +"Return to your apartments, Henriot, I am in pain. I will see my dogs +and then go to bed." + +"Sire," said Henry, "your Majesty ought to send for a physician. Your +trouble is perhaps more serious than you imagine." + +"I have sent for Maître Ambroise Paré, Henriot." + +"Then I shall retire more satisfied." + +"Upon my soul," said the King, "I believe that of all my family you are +the only one who really loves me." + +"Is this indeed your opinion, sire?" + +"On the word of a gentleman." + +"Then commend me to Monsieur de Nancey as a man your deep anger may not +allow to live a month. By this means you will have me many years to love +you." + +"Monsieur de Nancey!" cried Charles. + +The captain of the guards entered. + +"I commit into your hands the most guilty man of my kingdom. You will +answer for him with your life." + +Henry assumed an air of consternation, and followed Monsieur de Nancey. + + + + +CHAPTER LIII. + +ACTÉON. + + +Charles, left alone, wondered greatly at not having seen either of his +favorites, his nurse Madeleine or his greyhound Actéon. + +"Nurse must have gone to chant psalms with some Huguenot of her +acquaintance," said he to himself; "and Actéon is probably still angry +with me for the whipping I gave him this morning." + +Charles took a candle and went into his nurse's room. The good woman was +not there. From her chamber a door opened into the armory, it may be +remembered. The King started towards this door, but as he did so he was +seized with one of those spasms he had already felt, and which seemed to +attack him suddenly. He felt as if his entrails were being run through +with a red-hot iron, and an unquenchable thirst consumed him. Seeing a +cup of milk on the table, he swallowed it at a gulp, and felt somewhat +relieved. + +Taking the candle he had set down, he entered the armory. + +To his great astonishment Actéon did not come to meet him. Had he been +shut up? If so, he would have known that his master had returned from +hunting, and would have barked. + +Charles called and whistled, but no animal appeared. He advanced a few +steps, and as the light from the candle fell upon a corner of the room, +he perceived an inert something lying there on the floor. + +"Why! hello, Actéon!" cried Charles. He whistled again, but the dog did +not stir. Charles hastened forward and touched him; the poor beast was +stiff and cold. From his throat, contracted by pain, several drops of +gall had fallen, mixed with foamy and bloody saliva. The dog had found +an old cap of his master's in the armory, and had died with his head +resting on this object, which represented a friend. + +At the sight, which made him forget his own pain and restored all his +energy, rage boiled in Charles's veins. He would have cried out; but, +restrained as they are in their greatness, kings are not free to yield +to that first impulse which every man turns to the profit of his passion +or to his defence. Charles reflected that there had been some treason, +and was silent. + +Then he knelt down before his dog and with experienced eye examined the +body. The eyes were glassy, the tongue red and covered with pustules. It +was a strange disease, and one which made Charles shudder. The King put +on his gloves, which he had taken off and slipped into his belt, opened +the livid lips of the dog to examine his teeth, and perceived in the +interstices some white-looking fragments clinging to the sharp points of +the molars. He took out these pieces, and saw that they were paper. Near +where the paper had been the swelling was greater, the gums were +swollen, and the skin looked as if it had been eaten by vitriol. + +Charles gazed carefully around him. On the carpet lay two or three bits +of the paper similar to that which he had already recognized in the +dog's mouth. One of the pieces, larger than the others, showed the marks +of a woodcut. Charles's hair stood on end, for he recognized a fragment +of the picture which represented a gentleman hawking, and which Actéon +had torn from the treatise on hunting. + +"Ah!" said he, turning pale; "the book was poisoned!" + +Then, suddenly remembering: + +"A thousand devils!" he exclaimed, "I touched every page with my finger, +and at every page I raised my finger to my lips. These fainting-spells, +these attacks of pain and vomiting! I am a dead man!" + +For an instant Charles remained motionless under the weight of this +terrible thought. Then, rising with a dull groan, he hastened to the +door of the armory. + +"Maître Réné!" he cried, "I want Maître Réné, the Florentine; send some +one as quickly as possible to the Pont Saint Michel and bring him to me! +He must be here within ten minutes. Let some one mount a horse and lead +another that he may come more quickly. If Maître Ambroise Paré arrives +have him wait." + +A guard went instantly to carry out the King's commands. + +"Oh!" murmured Charles, "if I have to put everybody to the torture, I +will know who gave this book to Henriot;" and with perspiration on his +brow, clenched hands, and heaving breast, he stood with his eyes fixed +on the body of his dead dog. + +Ten minutes later the Florentine knocked timidly and not without some +anxiety at the door of the King's apartments. There are some consciences +to which the sky is never clear. + +"Enter!" said Charles. + +The perfumer appeared. Charles went towards him with imperious air and +compressed lip. + +"Your Majesty sent for me," said Réné, trembling. + +"You are a skilful chemist, are you not?" + +"Sire"-- + +"And you know all that the cleverest doctors know?" + +"Your Majesty exaggerates." + +"No; my mother has told me so. Besides, I have confidence in you, and I +prefer to consult you rather than any one else. See," he continued, +pointing to the dog, "look at what this animal has between his teeth, I +beg you, and tell me of what he died." + +While Réné, candle in hand, bent over the floor as much to hide his +emotion as to obey the King, Charles stood up, his eyes fixed on the +man, waiting with an impatience easy to understand for the reply which +was to be his sentence of death or his assurance of safety. + +Réné drew a kind of scalpel from his pocket, opened it, and with the +point detached from the mouth of the greyhound the particles of paper +which adhered to the gums; then he looked long and attentively at the +humor and the blood which oozed from each wound. + +"Sire," said he, trembling, "the symptoms are very bad." + +Charles felt an icy shudder run through his veins to his very heart. + +"Yes," said he, "the dog has been poisoned, has he not?" + +"I fear so, sire." + +"With what sort of poison?" + +"With mineral poison, I think." + +"Can you ascertain positively that he has been poisoned?" + +"Yes, certainly, by opening and examining the stomach." + +"Open it. I wish there to be no doubt." + +"I must call some one to assist me." + +"I will help you," said Charles. + +"You, sire!" + +"Yes. If he has been poisoned, what symptoms shall we find?" + +"Red blotches and herborizations in the stomach." + +"Come, then," said Charles, "begin." + +With a stroke of the scalpel Réné opened the hound's body and with his +two hands removed the stomach, while Charles, one knee on the floor, +held the light with clenched and trembling hand. + +"See, sire," said Réné; "here are evident marks. These are the red spots +I spoke of; as to these bloody veins, which seem like the roots of a +plant, they are what I meant by herborizations. I find here everything I +looked for." + +"So the dog was poisoned?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"With mineral poison?" + +"In all probability." + +"And what symptoms would a man have who had inadvertently swallowed some +of the same poison?" + +"Great pain in the head, internal burning as if he had swallowed hot +coals, pains in the bowels, and vomiting." + +"Would he be thirsty?" asked Charles. + +"Intensely thirsty." + +"That is it! that is it!" murmured the King. + +"Sire, I seek in vain for the motive for all these questions." + +"Of what use to seek it? You need not know it. Answer my questions, that +is all." + +"Yes, sire." + +"What is the antidote to give a man who may have swallowed the same +substance as my dog?" + +Réné reflected an instant. + +"There are several mineral poisons," said he; "and before answering I +should like to know what you mean. Has your Majesty any idea of the way +in which your dog was poisoned?" + +"Yes," said Charles; "he chewed the leaf of a book." + +"The leaf of a book?" + +"Yes." + +"Has your Majesty this book?" + +"Here it is," said Charles, and, taking the volume from the shelf where +he had placed it, he handed it to Réné. + +The latter gave a start of surprise which did not escape the King. + +"He ate a leaf of this book?" stammered Réné. + +"Yes, this one," and Charles pointed to the torn page. + +"Will you allow me to tear out another, sire?" + +"Do so." + +Réné tore out a leaf and held it over the candle. The paper caught fire, +filling the room with a strong smell of garlic. + +"He has been poisoned with a preparation of arsenic," said he. + +"You are sure?" + +"As sure as if I had prepared it myself." + +"And the antidote?" + +Réné shook his head. + +"What!" said Charles in a hoarse voice, "you know no remedy?" + +"The best and most efficacious is the white of eggs beaten in milk; +but"-- + +"But what?" + +"It must be administered at once; otherwise"-- + +"Otherwise?" + +"Sire, it is a terrible poison," said Réné, again. + +"Yet it does not kill immediately," said Charles. + +"No, but it kills surely, no matter how long the time, though even this +may sometimes be calculated." + +Charles leaned against the marble table. + +"Now," said he, putting his hand on Réné's shoulder, "you know this +book?" + +"I, sire?" said Réné, turning pale. + +"Yes, you; on seeing it you betrayed yourself." + +"Sire, I swear to you"-- + +"Réné," said Charles, "listen to me. You poisoned the Queen of Navarre +with gloves; you poisoned the Prince of Porcion with the smoke from a +lamp; you tried to poison Monsieur de Condé with a scented apple. Réné, +I will have your skin removed with red-hot pincers, bit by bit, if you +do not tell me to whom this book belongs." + +The Florentine saw that he could not dally with the anger of Charles +IX., and resolved to be bold. + +"If I tell the truth, sire, who will guarantee that I shall not be more +cruelly punished than if I keep silent?" + +"I will." + +"Will you give me your royal word?" + +"On my honor as a gentleman your life shall be spared," said the King. + +"The book belongs to me, then," said Réné. + +"To you!" cried Charles, starting back and looking at the poisoner with +haggard eyes. + +"Yes, to me." + +"How did it leave your possession?" + +"Her majesty the queen mother took it from my house." + +"The queen mother!" exclaimed Charles. + +"Yes." + +"With what object?" + +"With the intention, I think, of having it sent to the King of Navarre, +who had asked the Duc d'Alençon for a book of the kind in order to study +the art of hawking." + +"Ah!" cried Charles, "that is it. I see it all. The book indeed was in +Henriot's room. There is a destiny about this and I submit to it." + +At that moment Charles was seized with a violent fit of coughing, +followed by fresh pain in the bowels. He gave two or three stifled +cries, and fell back in his chair. + +"What is the matter, sire?" asked Réné in a frightened voice. + +"Nothing," said Charles, "except that I am thirsty. Give me something to +drink." + +Réné filled a glass with water and with trembling hand gave it to +Charles, who swallowed it at a draught. + +"Now," said he, taking a pen and dipping it into the ink, "write in this +book." + +"What must I write?" + +"What I am going to dictate to you: + +"'_This book on hawking was given by me to the queen mother, Catharine +de Médicis._'" + +Réné took the pen and wrote. + +"Now sign your name." + +The Florentine obeyed. + +"You promised to save my life." + +"I will keep my promise." + +"But," said Réné, "the queen mother?" + +"Oh!" said Charles, "I have nothing to do with her; if you are attacked +defend yourself." + +"Sire, may I leave France, where I feel that my life is in danger?" + +"I will reply to that in a fortnight." + +"But, in the meantime"-- + +Charles frowned and placed his finger on his livid lips. + +"You need not be afraid of me, sire." + +And happy to have escaped so easily the Florentine bowed and withdrew. + +Behind him the nurse appeared at the door of her room. + +"What is the matter, my Charlot?" said she. + +"Nurse, I have been walking in the dew, and have taken cold." + +"You are very pale, Charlot." + +"It is because I am so weak. Give me your arm, nurse, as far as my bed." + +The nurse hastily came forward. + +Charles leaned on her and reached his room. + +"Now," said Charles, "I will put myself to bed." + +"If Maître Ambroise Paré comes?" + +"Tell him that I am better and that I do not need him." + +"But, meanwhile, what will you take?" + +"Oh! a very simple medicine," said Charles, "the whites of eggs beaten +in milk. By the way, nurse," he continued, "my poor Actéon is dead. +To-morrow morning he must be buried in a corner of the garden of the +Louvre. He was one of my best friends. I will have a tomb made for +him--if I have time." + + + + +CHAPTER LIV. + +THE FOREST OF VINCENNES. + + +According to the order given by Charles IX., Henry was conducted that +same evening to Vincennes. Such was the name given at that time to the +famous castle of which to-day only a fragment remains, colossal enough, +however, to give an idea of its past grandeur. + +The trip was made in a litter, on either side of which walked four +guards. + +Monsieur de Nancey, bearing the order which was to open to Henry the +door of the protecting abode, walked first. + +At the postern of the prison they stopped. Monsieur de Nancey dismounted +from his horse, opened the gate, which was closed with a padlock, and +respectfully asked the king to follow. + +Henry obeyed without uttering a word. Any dwelling seemed to him safer +than the Louvre, and ten doors closed on him were at the same time ten +doors shut between him and Catharine de Médicis. + +The royal prisoner crossed the drawbridge between two soldiers, passed +through the three doors on the ground floor and the three at the foot of +the staircase; then, still preceded by Monsieur de Nancey, he ascended +one flight. Arrived there, the captain of the guards, seeing that the +king was about to mount another flight, said to him: + +"My lord, you are to stop here." + +"Ah!" said Henry, pausing, "it seems that I am given the honors of the +first floor." + +"Sire," replied Monsieur de Nancey, "you are treated like a crowned +head." + +"The devil! the devil!" said Henry to himself, "two or three floors more +would in no way have humiliated me. I shall be too comfortable here; I +suspect something." + +"Will your majesty follow me?" asked Monsieur de Nancey. + +"_Ventre saint gris!_" said the King of Navarre, "you know very well, +monsieur, that it is not a question of what I will or will not do, but +of what my brother Charles orders. Did he command that I should follow +you?" + +"Yes, sire." + +"Then I will do so, monsieur." + +They reached a sort of corridor at the end of which they came to a +good-sized room, with dark and gloomy looking walls. Henry gazed around +him with a glance not wholly free from anxiety. + +"Where are we?" he asked. + +"In the chamber of torture, my lord." + +"Ah!" replied the king, looking at it more closely. + +There was something of everything in this chamber--pitchers and wooden +horses for the torture by water; wedges and mallets for the torture of +the boot; besides stone benches nearly all around the room for the +wretches who awaited the torture. Above these benches, at the seats +themselves, and at their feet, were iron rings fastened into the walls, +without other symmetry than that of the torturing art. But their +proximity to the seats sufficiently indicated that they were there in +order to await the limbs of those who were to occupy them. + +Henry walked on without a word, but not a single detail of all the +hideous apparatus which, so to speak, had stamped the history of +suffering on the walls escaped him. + +The king was so taken up with the objects about him that he forgot to +look where he was going, and came to a sudden standstill. + +"Ah!" said he, "what is that?" + +And he pointed to a kind of ditch dug in the damp pavement which formed +the floor. + +"That is the gutter, sire." + +"Does it rain here, then?" + +"Yes, sire, blood." + +"Ah!" said Henry, "very good. Shall we not soon reach my apartment?" + +"Yes, my lord, here it is," said a figure in the dark, which, as it drew +nearer, became clearer and more distinguishable. + +Henry thought he recognized the voice, and advanced towards the figure. + +"So it is you, Beaulieu," said he. "What the devil are you doing here?" + +"Sire, I have just received my appointment as governor of the fortress +of Vincennes." + +"Well, my dear friend, your initiation does you honor. A king for a +prisoner is not bad." + +"Pardon me, sire," said Beaulieu, "but I have already had two +gentlemen." + +"Who are they? But, pardon me, perhaps I am indiscreet. If so, assume +that I have said nothing." + +"My lord, I have not been ordered to keep it secret. They are Monsieur +de la Mole and Monsieur de Coconnas." + +"Ah! that is true. I saw them arrested. Poor gentlemen, and how do they +bear this misfortune?" + +"Differently. One is gay, the other sad; one sings, the other groans." + +"Which one groans?" + +"Monsieur de la Mole, sire." + +"Faith," said Henry, "I can understand more easily the one who groans +than the one who sings. After what I have seen the prison is not a very +lively place. On what floor are they?" + +"High up; on the fourth." + +Henry heaved a sigh. It was there that he wished to be. + +"Come, Monsieur de Beaulieu," said he, "be good enough to show me my +room. I am in haste to see it, as I am greatly fatigued from the journey +we have just made." + +"This is it, my lord," said Beaulieu, pointing to an open door. + +"Number two," said Henry; "why not number one?" + +"Because that is reserved, my lord." + +"Ah! it seems, then, that you expect a prisoner of higher rank than I." + +"I did not say, my lord, that it was a prisoner." + +"Who is it, then?" + +"I beg my lord not to insist, for by refusing to answer I should fail in +the obedience due him." + +"Ah! that is another thing," said Henry. + +And he became more pensive than before. Number one perplexed him, +apparently. The governor was assiduous in his attentions. With a +thousand apologies he installed Henry in his apartment, made every +excuse for the comforts he might lack, stationed two soldiers at the +door, and withdrew. + +"Now," said the governor, addressing the turnkey, "let us go to the +others." + +The turnkey walked ahead. They took the same road by which they had +come, passed through the chamber of torture, crossed the corridor, and +reached the stairway. Then, still following his guide, Monsieur de +Beaulieu ascended three flights. On reaching the fourth floor the +turnkey opened successively three doors, each ornamented with two locks +and three enormous bolts. He had scarcely touched the third door before +they heard a joyous voice exclaiming: + +"By Heaven! open; if only to give us some air. Your stove is so warm +that I am stifled here." + +And Coconnas, whom the reader has no doubt already recognized from his +favorite exclamation, bounded from where he stood to the door. + +"One instant, my gentleman," said the turnkey, "I have not come to let +you out, but to let myself in, and the governor is with me." + +"The governor!" said Coconnas, "what does he want?" + +"To pay you a visit." + +"He does me great honor," said Coconnas; "and he is welcome." + +Monsieur de Beaulieu entered and at once dispelled the cordial smile of +Coconnas by one of those icy looks which belong to governors of +fortresses, to jailers, and to hangmen. + +"Have you any money, monsieur?" he asked of the prisoner. + +"I?" said Coconnas; "not a crown." + +"Jewels?" + +"I have a ring." + +"Will you allow me to search you?" + +"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas, reddening with anger, "you take much on +yourself, being in prison, and having me there also." + +"We must suffer everything for the service of the King." + +"So," said the Piedmontese, "those good fellows who rob on the Pont Neuf +are like you, then, in the service of the King. By Heavens! I was very +unjust, monsieur, for until now I have taken them for thieves." + +"Good evening, monsieur," said Beaulieu. "Jailer, lock the door." + +The governor went away, taking with him the ring, which was a beautiful +sapphire, given him by Madame de Nevers to remind him of the color of +her eyes. + +"Now for the other," he said as he went out. + +They crossed an empty chamber, and the game of three doors, six locks, +and nine bolts began anew. + +The last door open, a sigh was the first sound that greeted the +visitors. + +The apartment was more gloomy looking than the one Monsieur de Beaulieu +had just left. Four long narrow windows admitted a feeble light into +this mournful abode. Before these, iron bars were crossed in such a way +that the eye of the prisoner was arrested by a dark line and prevented +from catching even a glimpse of the sky. From each corner of the room +pointed arches met in the middle of the ceiling, where they spread out +in Gothic fashion. + +La Mole was seated in a corner, and, in spite of the entrance of the +visitors, appeared to have heard nothing. + +The governor paused on the threshold and looked for an instant at the +prisoner, who sat motionless, his head in his hands. + +"Good evening, Monsieur de la Mole," said Beaulieu. + +The young man slowly raised his head. + +"Good evening, monsieur," said he. + +"Monsieur," continued the governor, "I have come to search you." + +"That is useless," said La Mole. "I will give you all I have." + +"What have you?" + +"About three hundred crowns, these jewels, and rings." + +"Give them to me, monsieur," said the governor. + +"Here they are." + +La Mole turned out his pockets, took the rings from his finger, and the +clasp from his hat. + +"Have you nothing more?" + +"Not that I know of." + +"And that silk cord around your neck, what may that be?" asked the +governor. + +"Monsieur, that is not a jewel, but a relic." + +"Give it to me." + +"What! you demand it?" + +"I am ordered to leave you only your clothes, and a relic is not an +article of clothing." + +La Mole made a gesture of anger, which, in the midst of the dignified +and pained calm which distinguished him, seemed to impress the men +accustomed to stormy emotions. + +But he immediately recovered his self-possession. + +"Very well, monsieur," said he, "you shall see what you ask for." + +Then, turning as if to approach the light, he unfastened the pretended +relic, which was none other than a medallion containing a portrait, +which he drew out and raised to his lips. Having kissed it several +times, he suddenly pretended to drop it as by accident, and placing the +heel of his boot on it he crushed it into a thousand pieces. + +"Monsieur!" said the governor. + +And he stooped down to see if he could not save the unknown object which +La Mole wished to hide from him; but the miniature was literally ground +to powder. + +"The King wished for this jewel," said La Mole, "but he had no right to +the portrait it contained. Now, here is the medallion; you may take it." + +"Monsieur," said Beaulieu, "I shall complain of you to the King." + +And without taking leave of his prisoner by a single word he went out, +so angry that without waiting to preside over the task, he left to the +turnkey the care of closing the doors. + +The jailer turned to leave, but seeing that Monsieur de Beaulieu had +already started down the stairs: + +"Faith! monsieur," said he, turning back, "I did well to ask you to give +me the hundred crowns at once for which I am to allow you to speak to +your companion; for had you not done so the governor would have taken +them from you with the three hundred others, and my conscience would not +have allowed me to do anything for you; but as I was paid in advance, I +promised that you should see your friend. So come. An honest man keeps +his word. Only, if it is possible, for your sake as much as for mine, do +not talk politics." + +La Mole left his apartment and found himself face to face with Coconnas, +who was walking up and down the flags of the intermediate room. + +The two friends rushed into each other's arms. + +The jailer pretended to wipe the corner of his eye, and then withdrew to +watch that the prisoners were not surprised, or rather that he himself +was not caught. + +"Ah! here you are!" said Coconnas. "Well, has that dreadful governor +paid his visit to you?" + +"Yes, as he did to you, I presume?" + +"Did he remove everything?" + +"And from you, too?" + +"Ah! I had not much; only a ring from Henrietta, that was all." + +"And money?" + +"I gave all I had to the good jailer, so that he would arrange this +interview for us." + +"Ah!" said La Mole, "it seems that he had something from both of us." + +"Did you pay him too?" + +"I gave him a hundred crowns." + +"So much the better." + +"One can do everything with money, and I trust that we shall not lack +for it." + +"Do you know what has happened to us?" + +"Perfectly; we have been betrayed." + +"By that scoundrelly Duc d'Alençon. I should have been right to twist +his neck." + +"Do you think our position serious?" + +"I fear so." + +"Then there is likelihood of the torture?" + +"I will not hide from you the fact that I have already thought of it." + +"What should you do in that case?" + +"And you?" + +"I should be silent," replied La Mole, with a feverish flush. + +"Silent?" cried Coconnas. + +"Yes, if I had the strength." + +"Well," said Coconnas, "if they insult me in any such way I promise you +I will tell them a few things." + +"What things?" asked La Mole, quickly. + +"Oh, be easy--things which will prevent Monsieur d'Alençon from sleeping +for some time." + +La Mole was about to reply when the jailer, who no doubt had heard some +noise, appeared, and pushing each prisoner into his respective cell, +locked the doors again. + + + + +CHAPTER LV. + +THE FIGURE OF WAX. + + +For a week Charles was confined to his bed by a slow fever, interrupted +by violent attacks which resembled epileptic fits. During these attacks +he uttered shrieks which the guards, watching in his chamber, heard with +terror, and the echoes of which reached to the farthest corner of the +old Louvre, aroused so often by many a dreadful sound. Then, when these +attacks passed, Charles, completely exhausted, sank back with closed +eyes into the arms of his nurse. + +To say that, each in his way, without communicating the feeling to the +other, for mother and son sought to avoid rather than to see each other, +to say that Catharine de Médicis and the Duc d'Alençon revolved sinister +thoughts in the depths of their hearts would be to say that in that nest +of vipers moved a hideous swarm. + +Henry was shut up in his chamber in the prison; and at his own request +no one had been allowed to see him, not even Marguerite. In the eyes of +every one his imprisonment was an open disgrace. Catharine and +D'Alençon, thinking him lost, breathed once more, and Henry ate and +drank more calmly, hoping that he was forgotten. + +At court no one suspected the cause of the King's illness. Maître +Ambroise Paré and Mazille, his colleague, thought it was inflammation of +the bowels, and had prescribed a regimen which aided the special drink +given by Réné. Charles received this, his only nourishment, three times +a day from the hands of his nurse. + +La Mole and Coconnas were at Vincennes in closest confinement. +Marguerite and Madame de Nevers had made a dozen attempts to reach them, +or at least to send them a note, but without success. One morning +Charles felt somewhat better, and wished the court to assemble. This was +the usual custom in the morning, although for some time no levee had +taken place. The doors were accordingly thrown open, and it was easy to +see, from his pale cheeks, yellow forehead, and the feverish light in +his deep-sunken eyes, which were surrounded by dark circles, what +frightful ravages the unknown disease had made on the young monarch. + +The royal chamber was soon filled with curious and interested courtiers. +Catharine, D'Alençon, and Marguerite had been informed that the King was +to hold an audience. Therefore all three entered, at short intervals, +one by one; Catharine calm, D'Alençon smiling, Marguerite dejected. +Catharine seated herself by the side of the bed without noticing the +look that Charles gave her as he saw her approach. + +Monsieur d'Alençon stood at the foot. + +Marguerite leaned against a table, and seeing the pale brow, the worn +features, and deep-sunken eyes of her brother, could not repress a sigh +and a tear. + +Charles, whom nothing escaped, saw the tear and heard the sigh, and with +his head made a slight motion to Marguerite. + +This sign, slight as it was, lighted the face of the poor Queen of +Navarre, to whom Henry had not had time or perhaps had not wished to say +anything. + +She feared for her husband, she trembled for her lover. For herself she +had no fear; she knew La Mole well, and felt she could rely on him. + +"Well, my dear son," said Catharine, "how do you feel?" + +"Better, mother, better." + +"What do your physicians say?" + +"My physicians? They are clever doctors, mother," said Charles, bursting +into a laugh. "I take great pleasure, I admit, in hearing them discuss +my malady. Nurse, give me something to drink." + +The nurse brought Charles a cup of his usual beverage. + +"What do they order you to take, my son?" + +"Oh! madame, who knows anything about their preparations?" said the +King, hastily swallowing the drink. + +"What my brother needs," said François, "is to rise and get out into the +open air; hunting, of which he is so fond, would do him a great deal of +good." + +"Yes," said Charles, with a smile, the meaning of which it was +impossible for the duke to understand, "and yet the last hunt did me +great harm." + +Charles uttered these words in such a strange way that the conversation, +in which the others present had not taken part, stopped. Then the King +gave a slight nod of his head. The courtiers understood that the +audience was over, and withdrew one after another. + +D'Alençon started to approach his brother, but some secret feeling +stopped him. He bowed and went out. + +Marguerite seized the wasted hand her brother held out to her, pressed +it, and kissed it. Then she, in turn, withdrew. + +"Dear Margot!" murmured Charles. + +Catharine alone remained, keeping her place at the side of the bed. +Finding himself alone with her, Charles recoiled as if from a serpent. + +Instructed by the words of Réné, perhaps still better by silence and +meditation, Charles no longer had even the happiness of doubt. + +He knew perfectly to whom and to what to attribute his approaching +death. + +So, when Catharine drew near to the bed and extended to him a hand as +cold as his glance, the King shuddered in fear. + +"You have remained, madame?" said he. + +"Yes, my son," replied Catharine, "I must speak to you on important +matters." + +"Speak, madame," said Charles, again recoiling. + +"Sire!" said the queen, "you said just now that your physicians were +great doctors!" + +"And I say so again, madame." + +"Yet what have they done during your illness?" + +"Nothing, it is true--but if you had heard what they said--really, +madame, one might afford to be ill if only to listen to their learned +discussions." + +"Well, my son, do you want me to tell you something?" + +"What is it, mother?" + +"I suspect that all these clever doctors know nothing whatever about +your malady." + +"Indeed, madame!" + +"They may, perhaps, see a result, but they are ignorant of the cause." + +"That is possible," said Charles, not understanding what his mother was +aiming at. + +"So that they treat the symptoms and not the ill itself." + +"On my soul!" said Charles, astonished, "I believe you are right, +mother." + +"Well, my son," said Catharine, "as it is good neither for my happiness +nor the welfare of the kingdom for you to be ill so long, and as your +mind might end by becoming affected, I assembled the most skilful +doctors." + +"In the science of medicine, madame?" + +"No, in a more profound science: that which helps not only the body but +the mind as well." + +"Ah! a beautiful science, madame," said Charles, "and one which the +doctors are right in not teaching to crowned heads! Have your researches +had any result?" he continued. + +"Yes." + +"What was it?" + +"That which I hoped for; I bring to your Majesty that which will cure +not only your body but your mind." + +Charles shuddered. He thought that finding that he was still living his +mother had resolved to finish knowingly that which she had begun +unconsciously. + +"Where is this remedy?" said he, rising on his elbow and looking at his +mother. + +"In the disease itself," replied Catharine. + +"Then where is that?" + +"Listen to me, my son," said Catharine, "have you not sometimes heard it +said that there are secret enemies who in their revenge assassinate +their victim from a distance?" + +"By steel or poison?" asked Charles, without once turning his eyes from +the impassible face of his mother. + +"No, by a surer and much more terrible means," said Catharine. + +"Explain yourself." + +"My son," asked the Florentine, "do you believe in charms and magic?" + +Charles repressed a smile of scorn and incredulity. + +"Fully," said he. + +"Well," said Catharine, quickly, "from magic comes all your suffering. +An enemy of your Majesty who would not have dared to attack you openly +has conspired in secret. He has directed against your Majesty a +conspiracy much more terrible in that he has no accomplices, and the +mysterious threads of which cannot be traced." + +"Faith, no!" said Charles, aghast at such cunning. + +"Think well, my son," said Catharine, "and recall to mind certain plans +for flight which would have assured impunity to the murderer." + +"To the murderer!" cried Charles. "To the murderer, you say? Has there +been an attempt to kill me, mother?" + +Catharine's changing eye rolled hypocritically under its wrinkled lid. + +"Yes, my son; you doubt it, perhaps, but I know it for a certainty." + +"I never doubt what you tell me, mother," replied the King, bitterly. +"How was the attempt made? I am anxious to know." + +"By magic." + +"Explain yourself, madame," said Charles, recalled by his loathing to +his rôle of observer. + +"If the conspirator I mean, and one whom at heart your Majesty already +suspects, had succeeded in his plans, no one would have fathomed the +cause of your Majesty's sufferings. Fortunately, however, sire, your +brother watched over you." + +"Which brother?" + +"D'Alençon." + +"Ah! yes, that is true; I always forget that I have a brother," murmured +Charles, laughing bitterly; "so you say, madame"-- + +"That fortunately he revealed the conspiracy. But while he, +inexperienced child that he is, sought only the traces of an ordinary +plot, the proofs of a young man's escapade, I sought for proofs of a +much more important deed; for I understand the reach of the guilty one's +mind." + +"Ah! mother, one would say you were speaking of the King of Navarre," +said Charles, anxious to see how far this Florentine dissimulation would +go. + +Catharine hypocritically dropped her eyes. + +"I have had him arrested and taken to Vincennes for his escapade," +continued the King; "is he more guilty than I suspected, then?" + +"Do you feel the fever that consumes you?" asked Catharine. + +"Yes, certainly, madame," said Charles, frowning. + +"Do you feel the fire that burns you internally?" + +"Yes, madame," replied Charles, his brow darkening more and more. + +"And the sharp pains in your head, which shoot from your eyes to your +brain like so many arrows?" + +"Yes, madame. I feel all that. You describe my trouble perfectly!" + +"Well! the explanation is very simple," said the Florentine. "See." + +And she drew from under her cloak an object which she gave to the King. + +It was a figure of yellow wax, about six inches high, clothed in a robe +covered with golden stars also of wax, like the figure; and over this a +royal mantle of the same material. + +"Well," asked Charles, "what is this little statue?" + +"See what it has on its head," said Catharine. + +"A crown," replied Charles. + +"And in the heart?" + +"A needle." + +"Well, sire, do you recognize yourself?" + +"Myself?" + +"Yes, you, with your crown and mantle?" + +"Who made this figure?" asked Charles, whom this farce was beginning to +weary; "the King of Navarre, no doubt?" + +"No, sire." + +"No? then I do not understand you." + +"I say _no_," replied Catharine, "because you asked the question +literally. I should have said _yes_ had you put it differently." + +Charles made no answer. He was striving to penetrate all the thoughts of +that shadowy mind, which constantly closed before him just as he thought +himself ready to read it. + +"Sire," continued Catharine, "this statue was found by the +Attorney-General Laguesle, in the apartment of the man who on the day +you last went hawking led a horse for the King of Navarre." + +"Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Yes, and, if you please, look again at the needle in the heart, and see +what letter is written on the label attached to it." + +"I see an 'M,'" said Charles. + +"That means _mort_, death; it is the magic formula, sire. The maker thus +wrote his vow on the very wound he gave. Had he wished to make a +pretence at killing, as did the Duc de Bretagne for King Charles VI., he +would have driven the needle into the head and put an 'F' instead of an +'M.'" + +"So," said Charles IX., "according to your idea, the person who seeks to +end my days is Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Yes, he is the dagger; but behind the dagger is the hand that directs +it." + +"This then is the sole cause of my illness? the day the charm is +destroyed the malady will cease? But how go to work?" asked Charles, +"you must know, mother; but I, unlike you, who have spent your whole +life studying them, know nothing about charms and spells." + +"The death of the conspirator destroys the charm, that is all. The day +the charm is destroyed your illness will cease," said Catharine. + +"Indeed!" said Charles, with an air of surprise. + +"Did you not know that?" + +"Why! I am no sorcerer," said the King. + +"Well, now," said Catharine, "your Majesty is convinced, are you not?" + +"Certainly." + +"Conviction has dispelled anxiety?" + +"Completely." + +"You do not say so out of complaisance?" + +"No, mother! I say it from the bottom of my heart." + +Catharine's face broke into smiles. + +"Thank God!" she exclaimed, as if she believed in God. + +"Yes, thank God!" repeated Charles, ironically; "I know now, as you do, +to whom to attribute my present condition, and consequently whom to +punish." + +"And you will punish"-- + +"Monsieur de la Mole; did you not say that he was the guilty party?" + +"I said that he was the instrument." + +"Well," said Charles, "Monsieur de la Mole first; he is the most +important. All these attacks on me might arouse dangerous suspicions. It +is imperative that there be some light thrown on the matter and from +this light the truth may be discovered." + +"So Monsieur de la Mole"-- + +"Suits me admirably as the guilty one; therefore I accept him. We will +begin with him; and if he has an accomplice, he shall speak." + +"Yes," murmured Catharine, "and if he does not, we will make him. We +have infallible means for that." + +Then rising: + +"Will you permit the trial to begin, sire?" + +"I desire it, madame," replied Charles, "and the sooner the better." + +Catharine pressed the hand of her son without comprehending the nervous +grasp with which he returned it, and left the apartment without hearing +the sardonic laugh of the King, or the terrible oath which followed the +laugh. + +Charles wondered if it were not dangerous to let this woman go thus, for +in a few hours she would have done so much that there would be no way of +stopping it. + +As he watched the curtain fall after Catharine, he heard a light rustle +behind him, and turning he perceived Marguerite, who raised the drapery +before the corridor leading to his nurse's rooms. + +Marguerite's pallor, her haggard eyes and oppressed breathing betrayed +the most violent emotion. + +"Oh, sire! sire!" she exclaimed, rushing to her brother's bedside; "you +know that she lies." + +"She? Who?" asked Charles. + +"Listen, Charles, it is a terrible thing to accuse one's mother; but I +suspected that she remained with you to persecute them again. But, on my +life, on yours, on our souls, I tell you what she says is false!" + +"To persecute them! Whom is she persecuting?" + +Both had instinctively lowered their voices; it seemed as if they +themselves feared even to hear them. + +"Henry, in the first place; your Henriot, who loves you, who is more +devoted to you than any one else." + +"You think so, Margot?" said Charles. + +"Oh! sire, I am sure of it." + +"Well, so am I," said Charles. + +"Then if you are sure of it, brother," said Marguerite, surprised, "why +did you have him arrested and taken to Vincennes?" + +"Because he asked me to do so." + +"He asked you, sire?" + +"Yes, Henriot has singular ideas. Perhaps he is wrong, perhaps right; at +any rate, one of his ideas was that he would be safer in disgrace than +in favor, away from me at Vincennes instead of near me in the Louvre." + +"Ah! I see," said Marguerite, "and is he safe there?" + +"As safe as a man can be whose head Beaulieu answers for with his own." + +"Oh! thank you, brother! so much for Henry. But"-- + +"But what?" + +"There is another, sire, in whom perhaps I am wrong to be interested, +but"-- + +"Who is it?" + +"Sire, spare me. I would scarcely dare name him to my brother, much less +to my King." + +"Monsieur de la Mole, is it not?" said Charles. + +"Alas!" said Marguerite, "you tried to kill him once, sire, and he +escaped from your royal vengeance only by a miracle." + +"He was guilty of only one crime then, Marguerite; now he has committed +two." + +"Sire, he is not guilty of the second." + +"But," said Charles, "did you not hear what our good mother said, my +poor Margot?" + +"Oh, I have already told you, Charles," said Marguerite, lowering her +voice, "that what she said was false." + +"You do not know perhaps that a waxen figure has been found in Monsieur +de la Mole's rooms?" + +"Yes, yes, brother, I know it." + +"That this figure is pierced to the heart by a needle, and that it bears +a tag with an 'M' on it?" + +"I know that, too." + +"And that over the shoulders of the figure is a royal mantle, and that +on its head is a royal crown?" + +"I know all that." + +"Well! what have you to say to it?" + +"This: that the figure with a royal cloak and a crown on its head is +that of a woman, and not that of a man." + +"Bah!" said Charles, "and the needle in its heart?" + +"Was a charm to make himself beloved by this woman, and not a charm to +kill a man." + +"But the letter 'M'?" + +"It does not mean _mort_, as the queen mother said." + +"What does it mean, then?" asked Charles. + +"It means--it means the name of the woman whom Monsieur de la Mole +loves." + +"And what is the name of this woman?" + +"_Marguerite_, brother!" cried the Queen of Navarre, falling on her +knees before the King's bed, taking his hand between both of hers, and +pressing her face to it, bathed in tears. + +"Hush, sister!" said Charles, casting a sharp glance about him beneath +his frowning brow. "For just as you overheard a moment ago, we may now +be overheard again." + +"What does it matter?" exclaimed Marguerite, raising her head, "if the +whole world were present to hear me, I would declare before it that it +is infamous to abuse the love of a gentleman by staining his reputation +with a suspicion of murder." + +"Margot, suppose I were to tell you that I know as well as you do who it +is and who it is not?" + +"Brother!" + +"Suppose I were to tell you that Monsieur de la Mole is innocent?" + +"You know this?" + +"If I were to tell you that I know the real author of the crime?" + +"The real author!" cried Marguerite; "has there been a crime committed, +then?" + +"Yes; intentionally or unintentionally there has been a crime +committed." + +"On you?" + +"Yes." + +"Impossible!" + +"Impossible? Look at me, Margot." + +The young woman looked at her brother and trembled, seeing him so pale. + +"Margot, I have not three months to live!" said Charles. + +"You, brother! you, Charles!" she cried. + +"Margot, I am poisoned." + +Marguerite screamed. + +"Hush," said Charles. "It must be thought that I am dying by magic." + +"Do you know who is guilty?" + +"Yes." + +"You said it was not La Mole?" + +"No, it is not he." + +"Nor Henry either, surely--great God! could it be"-- + +"Who?" + +"My brother--D'Alençon?" murmured Marguerite. + +"Perhaps." + +"Or--or"--Marguerite lowered her voice as if frightened at what she was +going to say, "or--our mother?" + +Charles was silent. + +Marguerite looked at him, and read all that she asked in his eyes. Then +still on her knees she half fell over against a chair. + +"Oh! my God! my God!" she whispered, "that is impossible." + +"Impossible?" said Charles, with a strident laugh, "it is a pity Réné is +not here to tell you the story." + +"Réné?" + +"Yes; he would tell you that a woman to whom he dares refuse nothing +asked him for a book on hunting which was in his library; that a subtle +poison was poured on every page of this book; that the poison intended +for some one, I know not for whom, fell by a turn of chance, or by a +punishment of Heaven, on another. But in the absence of Réné if you wish +to see the book it is there in my closet, and written in the +Florentine's handwriting you will see that this volume, which still +contains the death of many among its pages, was given by him to his +fellow countrywoman." + +"Hush, Charles, hush!" said Marguerite. + +"Now you see that it must be supposed that I die of magic." + +"But it is monstrous, monstrous! Pity! Pity! you know he is innocent." + +"Yes, I know it, but he must be thought guilty. Let your lover die; it +is very little to do in order to save the honor of the house of France; +I myself shall die that the secret may die with me." + +Marguerite bent her head, realizing that nothing could be obtained from +the King towards saving La Mole, and withdrew weeping, having no hope +except in her own resources. + +Meantime Catharine, as Charles had divined, had lost not a minute, but +had written to the Attorney-General Laguesle a letter, every word of +which has been preserved by history and which throws a lurid light upon +the drama: + + "_Monsieur le Procureur: I have this evening been informed beyond a + doubt that La Mole has committed sacrilege. Many evil things such + as books and papers have been found in his apartments in Paris. I + beg you to summon the chief president, and to inform him as early + as possible of the affair of the waxen figure meant for the King, + and which was pierced to the heart._ + + "_CATHARINE._"[18] + + + + +CHAPTER LVI. + +THE INVISIBLE BUCKLERS. + + +The day after that on which Catharine had written this letter the +governor entered Coconnas's cell with an imposing retinue consisting of +two halberdiers and four men in black gowns. + +Coconnas was asked to descend to a room in which the Attorney Laguesle +and two judges waited to question him according to Catharine's +instructions. + +During the week he had spent in prison Coconnas had reflected a great +deal. Besides that, he and La Mole were together for a few minutes each +day, through the kindness of their jailer, who, without saying anything +to them, had arranged this surprise, which in all probability they did +not owe to his philosophy alone,--besides, we say, La Mole and he had +agreed on the course they were to pursue, which was to persist in +absolute denial; and they were persuaded that with a little skill the +affair would take a more favorable turn; the charges were no greater +against them than against the others. Henry and Marguerite had made no +attempt at flight; they could not therefore be compromised in an affair +in which the chief ring-leaders were free. Coconnas did not know that +Henry was in the prison, and the complaisance of the jailer told him +that above his head hovered a certain protection which he called the +_invisible bucklers_. + +Up to then the examination had been confined to the intentions of the +King of Navarre, his plans of flight, and the part the two friends had +played in them. To all these questions Coconnas had constantly replied +in a way more than vague and much more than adroit; he was ready still +to reply in the same way, and had prepared in advance all his little +repartees, when he suddenly found the object of the examination was +altered. It turned upon one or more visits to Réné, one or more waxen +figures made at the instigation of La Mole. + +Prepared as he was, Coconnas believed that the accusation lost much of +its intensity, since it was no longer a question of having betrayed a +king but of having made a figure of a queen; and this figure not more +than ten inches high at the most. He, therefore, replied brightly that +neither he nor his friend had played with a doll for some time, and +noticed with pleasure that several times his answers made the judges +smile. + +It had not yet been said in verse: "I have laughed, therefore am I +disarmed," but it had been said a great deal in prose. And Coconnas +thought that he had partly disarmed his judges because they had smiled. + +His examination over, he went back to his cell, singing so merrily that +La Mole, for whom he was making all the noise, drew from it the happiest +auguries. + +La Mole was brought down, and like Coconnas saw with astonishment that +the accusation had abandoned its first ground and had entered a new +field. He was questioned as to his visits to Réné. He replied that he +had gone to the Florentine only once. Then, if he had not ordered a +waxen figure. He replied that Réné had showed him such a figure ready +made. He was then asked if this figure did not represent a man. He +replied that it represented a woman. Then, if the object of the charm +was not to cause the death of the man. He replied that the purpose of +the charm was to cause himself to be beloved by the woman. + +These questions were put in a hundred different forms, but La Mole +always replied in the same way. The judges looked at one another with a +certain indecision, not knowing what to say or do before such +simplicity, when a note brought to the Attorney-General solved the +difficulty. + + "_If the accused denies resort to the torture._ + + "_C._" + +The attorney put the note into his pocket, smiled at La Mole, and +politely dismissed him. + +La Mole returned to his cell almost as reassured, if not as joyous, as +Coconnas. + +"I think everything is going well," said he. + +An hour later he heard footsteps and saw a note slipped under his door, +without seeing the hand that did it. He took it up, thinking that in all +probability it came from the jailer? + +Seeing it, a hope almost as acute as a disappointment sprang into his +heart; he hoped it was from Marguerite, from whom he had had no news +since he had been a prisoner. + +He took it up with trembling hand, and almost died of joy as he looked +at the handwriting. + +"_Courage!_" said the note. "_I am watching over you._" + +"Ah! if she is watching," cried La Mole, covering with kisses the paper +which had touched a hand so dear, "if she is watching, I am saved." + +In order for La Mole to comprehend the note and rely with Coconnas on +what the Piedmontese called his _invisible bucklers_ it is necessary for +us to conduct the reader to that small house, to that chamber in which +the reminders of so many scenes of intoxicating happiness, so many +half-evaporated perfumes, so many tender recollections, since become +agonizing, were breaking the heart of a woman half reclining on velvet +cushions. + +"To be a queen, to be strong, young, rich, beautiful, and suffer what I +suffer!" cried this woman; "oh! it is impossible!" + +Then in her agitation she rose, paced up and down, stopped suddenly, +pressed her burning forehead against the ice-cold marble, rose pale, her +face covered with tears, wrung her hands, and crying aloud fell back +again hopeless into a chair. + +Suddenly the tapestry which separated the apartment of the Rue Cloche +Percée from that in the Rue Tizon was raised, and the Duchesse de Nevers +entered. + +"Ah!" exclaimed Marguerite, "is it you? With what impatience I have +waited for you! Well! What news?" + +"Bad news, my poor friend. Catharine herself is hurrying on the trial, +and at present is at Vincennes." + +"And Réné?" + +"Is arrested." + +"Before you were able to speak to him?" + +"Yes." + +"And our prisoners?" + +"I have news of them." + +"From the jailer?" + +"Yes." + +"Well?" + +"Well! They see each other every day. The day before yesterday they were +searched. La Mole broke your picture to atoms rather than give it up." + +"Dear La Mole!" + +"Annibal laughed in the face of the inquisitors." + +"Worthy Annibal! What then?" + +"This morning they were questioned as to the flight of the king, his +projects of rebellion in Navarre, and they said nothing." + +"Oh! I knew they would keep silence; but silence will kill them as much +as if they spoke." + +"Yes, but we must save them." + +"Have you thought over our plan?" + +"Since yesterday I have thought of nothing else." + +"Well?" + +"I have just come to terms with Beaulieu. Ah! my dear queen, what a hard +and greedy man! It will cost a man's life, and three hundred thousand +crowns." + +"You say he is hard and greedy--and yet he asks only the life of a man +and three hundred thousand crowns. Why, that is nothing!" + +"Nothing! Three hundred thousand crowns! Why, all your jewels and all +mine would not be enough." + +"Oh! that is nothing. The King of Navarre will pay something, the Duc +d'Alençon will pay part, and my brother Charles will pay part, or if +not"-- + +"See! what nonsense you talk. I have the money." + +"You?" + +"Yes, I." + +"How did you get it?" + +"Ah! that is telling!" + +"Is it a secret?" + +"For every one except you." + +"Oh, my God!" said Marguerite, smiling through her tears, "did you steal +it?" + +"You shall judge." + +"Well, let me." + +"Do you remember that horrible Nantouillet?" + +"The rich man, the usurer?" + +"If you please." + +"Well?" + +"Well! One day seeing a certain blonde lady, with greenish eyes, pass +by, wearing three rubies, one over her forehead, the other two over her +temples, an arrangement which was very becoming to her, this rich man, +this usurer, cried out: + +"'For three kisses in the place of those three rubies I will give you +three diamonds worth one hundred thousand crowns apiece!'" + +"Well, Henriette?" + +"Well, my dear, the diamonds appeared and are sold." + +"Oh, Henriette! Henriette!" cried Marguerite. + +"Well!" exclaimed the duchess in a bold tone at once innocent and +sublime, which sums up the age and the woman, "well, I love Annibal!" + +"That is true," said Marguerite, smiling and blushing at the same time, +"you love him a very great deal, too much, perhaps." + +And yet she pressed her friend's hand. + +"So," continued Henriette, "thanks to our three diamonds, the three +hundred thousand crowns and the man are ready." + +"The man? What man?" + +"The man to be killed; you forget a man must be killed." + +"Have you found the necessary man?" + +"Yes." + +"At the same price?" asked Marguerite, smiling. + +"At the same price I could have found a thousand," replied Henriette, +"no, no, for five hundred crowns." + +"For five hundred crowns you have found a man who has consented to be +killed?" + +"What can you expect? It is necessary for us to live." + +"My dear friend, I do not understand you. Come, explain. Enigmas require +too much time to guess at such a moment as this." + +"Well, listen; the jailer to whom the keeping of La Mole and Coconnas is +entrusted is an old soldier who knows what a wound is. He would like to +help save our friends, but he does not want to lose his place. A blow of +a dagger skilfully aimed will end the affair. We will give him a reward +and the kingdom, indemnification. In this way the brave man will receive +money from both parties and will renew the fable of the pelican." + +"But," said Marguerite, "a thrust of a dagger"-- + +"Do not worry; Annibal will give it." + +"Well," said Marguerite, "he has given as many as three blows of his +sword to La Mole, and La Mole is not dead; there is therefore every +reason to hope." + +"Wicked woman! You deserve to have me stop." + +"Oh! no, no; on the contrary, tell me the rest, I beg you. How are we to +save them; come!" + +"Well, this is the plan. The chapel is the only place in the castle +where women can enter who are not prisoners. We are to be hidden behind +the altar. Under the altar cloth they will find two daggers. The door of +the vestry-room will be opened beforehand. Coconnas will strike the +jailer, who will fall and pretend to be dead; we appear; each of us +throws a cloak over the shoulders of her friend; we run with them +through the small doors of the vestry-room, and as we have the password +we can leave without hindrance." + +"And once out?" + +"Two horses will be waiting at the door; the men will spring on them, +leave France, and reach Lorraine, whence now and then they will return +incognito." + +"Oh! you restore me to life," said Marguerite. "So we shall save them?" + +"I am almost sure of it." + +"Soon?" + +"In three or four days. Beaulieu is to let us know." + +"But if you were recognized in the vicinity of Vincennes that might +upset our plan." + +"How could any one recognize me? I go there as a nun, with a hood, +thanks to which not even the tip of my nose is visible." + +"We cannot take too many precautions." + +"I know that well enough, by Heaven! as poor Annibal would say." + +"Did you hear anything about the King of Navarre?" + +"I was careful to ask." + +"Well?" + +"Well, he has never been so happy, apparently; he laughs, sings, eats, +drinks, and sleeps well, and asks only one thing, and that is to be well +guarded." + +"He is right. And my mother?" + +"I told you she is hurrying on the trial as fast as she can." + +"Yes, but does she suspect anything about us?" + +"How could she? Every one who has a secret is anxious to keep it. Ah! I +know that she told the judges in Paris to be in readiness." + +"Let us act quickly, Henriette. If our poor prisoners change their +abode, everything will have to be done over again." + +"Do not worry. I am as anxious as you to see them free." + +"Oh, yes, I know that, and thank you, thank you a hundred times for all +you have done." + +"Adieu, Marguerite. I am going into the country again." + +"Are you sure of Beaulieu?" + +"I think so." + +"Of the jailer?" + +"He has promised." + +"Of the horses?" + +"They will be the best in the stables of the Duc de Nevers." + +"I adore you, Henriette." + +And Marguerite threw her arms about her friend's neck, after which the +two women separated, promising to see each other again the next day, and +every day, at the same place and hour. + +These were the two charming and devoted creatures whom Coconnas, with so +much reason, called his _invisible bucklers_. + + + + +CHAPTER LVII. + +THE JUDGES. + + +"Well, my brave friend," said Coconnas to La Mole, when the two were +together after the examination, at which, for the first time, the +subject of the waxen image had been discussed, "it seems to me that +everything is going on finely, and that it will not be long before the +judges will dismiss us. And this diagnosis is entirely different from +that of a dismissal by physicians. When the doctor gives up the patient +it is because he cannot cure him, but when the judge gives up the +accused it is because he has no further hope of having him beheaded." + +"Yes," said La Mole; "and moreover, it seems to me, from the politeness +and gentleness of the jailer and the looseness of the doors, that I +recognize our kind friends; but I do not recognize Monsieur de Beaulieu, +at least from what I had been told of him." + +"I recognize him," said Coconnas; "only it will cost dearly. But one is +a princess, the other a queen; both are rich, and they will never have +so good an opportunity to use their money. Now let us go over our +lesson. We are to be taken to the chapel, and left there in charge of +our turnkey; we shall each find a dagger in the spot indicated. I am to +make a hole in the body of our guide." + +"Yes, but a slight one in the arm; otherwise you will rob him of his +five hundred crowns." + +"Ah, no; not in the arm, for in that case he would have to lose it, and +it would be easy to see that it was given intentionally. No, it must be +in his right side, gliding skilfully along his ribs; that would look +natural, but in reality would be harmless." + +"Well, aim for that, and then"-- + +"Then you will barricade the front door with benches while our two +princesses rush from behind the altar, where they are to be hidden, and +Henriette opens the vestry door. Ah, faith, how I love Henriette to-day! +She must have been faithless to me in some way for me to feel as I do." + +"And then," said La Mole, with the trembling voice which falls from lips +like music, "then we shall reach the forest. A kiss given to each of us +will make us strong and happy. Can you not picture us, Annibal, bending +over our swift horses, our hearts gently oppressed? Oh, what a good +thing is fear! Fear in the open air when one has one's naked sword at +one's side, when one cries 'hurra' to the courser pricked by the spur, +and which at each shout speeds the faster." + +"Yes," said Coconnas, "but fear within four walls--what do you say to +that, La Mole? I can speak of it, for I have felt something of it. When +Beaulieu, with his pale face, entered my cell for the first time, behind +him in the darkness shone halberds, and I heard a sinister sound of iron +striking against iron. I swear to you I immediately thought of the Duc +d'Alençon, and I expected to see his ugly face between the two hateful +heads of the halberdiers. I was mistaken, however, and this was my sole +consolation. But that was not all; night came, and I dreamed." + +"So," said La Mole, who had been following his happy train of thought +without paying attention to his friend, "so they have foreseen +everything, even the place in which we are to hide. We shall go to +Lorraine, dear friend. In reality I should rather have had it Navarre, +for there I should have been with her, but Navarre is too far; Nancey +would be better; besides, once there, we should be only eighty leagues +from Paris. Have you any feeling of regret, Annibal, at leaving this +place?" + +"Ah, no! the idea! Although I confess I am leaving everything that +belongs to me." + +"Well, could we manage to take the worthy jailer with us instead of"-- + +"He would not go," said Coconnas, "he would lose too much. Think of it! +five hundred crowns from us, a reward from the government; promotion, +perhaps; how happy will be that fellow's life when I shall have killed +him! But what is the matter?" + +"Nothing! An idea came to me." + +"It is not a funny one, apparently, for you are frightfully pale." + +"I was wondering why they should take us to the chapel." + +"Why," said Coconnas, "to receive the sacrament. This is the time for +it, I think." + +"But," said La Mole, "they take only those condemned to death or the +torture to the chapel." + +"Oh!" said Coconnas, becoming somewhat pale in turn, "this deserves our +attention. Let us question the good man whom I am to split open. Here, +turnkey!" + +"Did monsieur call?" asked the jailer, who had been keeping watch at the +top of the stairs. + +"Yes; come here." + +"Well?" + +"It has been arranged that we are to escape from the chapel, has it +not?" + +"Hush!" said the turnkey, looking round him in terror. + +"Do not worry; no one can hear us." + +"Yes, monsieur; it is from the chapel." + +"They are to take us to the chapel, then?" + +"Yes; that is the custom." + +"The custom?" + +"Yes; it is customary to allow every one condemned to death to pass the +night in the chapel." + +Coconnas and La Mole shuddered and glanced at each other. + +"You think we are condemned to death, then?" + +"Certainly. You, too, must think so." + +"Why should we think so?" asked La Mole. + +"Certainly; otherwise you would not have arranged everything for your +escape." + +"Do you know, there is reason in what he says!" said Coconnas to La +Mole. + +"Yes; and what I know besides is that we are playing a close game, +apparently." + +"But do you think I am risking nothing?" said the turnkey. "If in a +moment of excitement monsieur should make a mistake"-- + +"Well! by Heaven! I wish I were in your place," said Coconnas, slowly, +"and had to deal with no hand but this; with no sword except the one +which is to graze you." + +"Condemned to death!" murmured La Mole, "why, that is impossible!" + +"Impossible!" said the turnkey, naïvely, "and why?" + +"Hush!" said Coconnas, "I think some one is opening the lower door." + +"To your cells, gentlemen, to your cells!" cried the jailer, hurriedly. + +"When do you think the trial will take place?" asked La Mole. + +"To-morrow, or later. But be easy; those who must be informed shall be." + +"Then let us embrace each other and bid farewell to these walls." + +The two friends rushed into each other's arms and then returned to their +cells, La Mole sighing, Coconnas singing. + +Nothing new happened until seven o'clock. Night fell dark and rainy over +the prison of Vincennes, a perfect night for flight. The evening meal +was brought to Coconnas, who ate with his usual appetite, thinking of +the pleasure he would feel in being soaked in the rain, which was +pattering against the walls, and already preparing himself to fall +asleep to the dull, monotonous murmur of the wind, when suddenly it +seemed to him that this wind, to which he occasionally listened with a +feeling of melancholy never before experienced by him until he came to +prison, whistled more strangely than usual under the doors, and that the +stove roared with a louder noise than common. This had happened every +time one of the cells above or opposite him was opened. It was by this +noise that Annibal always knew the jailer was coming from La Mole's +cell. + +But this time it was in vain that Coconnas remained with eye and ear +alert. + +The moments passed; no one came. + +"This is strange," said Coconnas, "La Mole's door has been opened and +not mine. Could La Mole have called? Can he be ill? What does it mean?" + +With a prisoner everything is a cause for suspicion and anxiety, as +everything is a cause for joy and hope. + +Half an hour passed, then an hour, then an hour and a half. + +Coconnas was beginning to grow sleepy from anger when the grating of the +lock made him spring to his feet. + +"Oh!" said he, "has the time come for us to leave and are they going to +take us to the chapel without condemning us? By Heaven, what joy it +would be to escape on such a night! It is as dark as an oven! I hope the +horses are not blind." + +He was about to ask some jocular question of the turnkey when he saw the +latter put his finger to his lips and roll his eyes significantly. +Behind the jailer Coconnas heard sounds and perceived shadows. + +Suddenly in the midst of the darkness he distinguished two helmets, on +which the smoking candle threw a yellow light. + +"Oh!" said he in a low voice, "what is this sinister procession? What is +going to happen?" + +The jailer replied by a sigh which greatly resembled a groan. + +"By Heaven!" murmured Coconnas; "what a wretched existence! always on +the ragged edge; never on firm land; either we paddle in a hundred feet +of water or we hover above the clouds; never a happy medium. Well, where +are we going?" + +"Follow the halberdiers, monsieur," repeated the same voice. + +He had to obey. Coconnas left his room, and perceived the dark man whose +voice had been so disagreeable. He was a clerk, small and hunchbacked, +who no doubt had put on the gown in order to hide his bandy legs, as +well as his back. He slowly descended the winding stairs. At the first +landing the guards paused. + +"That is a good deal to go down," murmured Coconnas, "but not enough." + +The door opened. The prisoner had the eye of a lynx and the scent of a +bloodhound. He scented the judges and saw in the shadow the silhouette +of a man with bare arms; the latter sight made the perspiration mount to +his brow. Nevertheless, he assumed his most smiling manner, and entered +the room with his head tipped to one side, and his hand on his hip, +after the most approved manner of the times. + +A curtain was raised, and Coconnas perceived the judges and the clerks. + +A few feet away La Mole was seated on a bench. + +Coconnas was led to the front of the tribunal. Arrived there, he +stopped, nodded and smiled to La Mole, and then waited. + +"What is your name, monsieur?" inquired the president. + +"Marcus Annibal de Coconnas," replied the gentleman with perfect ease. +"Count de Montpantier, Chenaux, and other places; but they are known, I +presume." + +"Where were you born?" + +"At Saint Colomban, near Suza." + +"How old are you?" + +"Twenty-seven years and three months." + +"Good!" said the president. + +"This pleases him, apparently," said Coconnas. + +"Now," said the president after a moment's silence which gave the clerk +time to write down the answers of the accused; "what was your reason for +leaving the service of Monsieur d'Alençon?" + +"To rejoin my friend Monsieur de la Mole, who had already left the duke +three days before." + +"What were you doing the day of the hunt, when you were arrested?" + +"Why," said Coconnas, "I was hunting." + +"The King was also present at that hunt, and was there seized with the +first attack of the malady from which he is at present suffering." + +"I was not near the King, and I can say nothing about this. I was even +ignorant of the fact that he had been ill." + +The judges looked at one another with a smile of incredulity. + +"Ah! you were ignorant of his Majesty's illness, were you?" said the +president. + +"Yes, monsieur, and I am sorry to hear of it. Although the King of +France is not my king, I have a great deal of sympathy for him." + +"Indeed!" + +"On my honor! It is different so far as his brother the Duc d'Alençon is +concerned. The latter I confess"-- + +"We have nothing to do with the Duc d'Alençon, monsieur; this concerns +his Majesty." + +"Well, I have already told you that I am his very humble servant," said +Coconnas, turning about in an adorably impudent fashion. + +"If as you pretend, monsieur, you are really his servant, will you tell +us what you know of a certain waxen figure?" + +"Ah, good! we have come back to the figure, have we?" + +"Yes, monsieur; does this displease you?" + +"On the contrary, I prefer it; go ahead." + +"Why was this statue found in Monsieur de la Mole's apartments?" + +"At Monsieur de la Mole's? At Réné's, you mean?" + +"You acknowledge that it exists, then, do you?" + +"Why, if you will show it to me." + +"Here it is. Is this the one you know?" + +"It is." + +"Clerk," said the president, "write down that the accused recognizes the +image as the one seen at Monsieur de la Mole's." + +"No, no!" said Coconnas, "do not let us misunderstand each other--as the +one seen at Réné's." + +"At Réné's; very good! On what day?" + +"The only day La Mole and myself were at Réné's." + +"You admit, then, that you were at Réné's with Monsieur de la Mole?" + +"Why, did I ever deny it?" + +"Clerk, write down that the accused admits having gone to Réné's to work +conjurations." + +"Stop there, Monsieur le Président. Moderate your enthusiasm, I beg you. +I did not say that at all." + +"You deny having been at Réné's to work conjurations?" + +"I deny it. The magic took place by accident. It was unpremeditated." + +"But it took place?" + +"I cannot deny that something resembling a charm did take place." + +"Clerk, write down that the accused admits that he obtained at Réné's a +charm against the life of the King." + +"What! against the King's life? That is an infamous lie! There was no +charm obtained against the life of the King." + +"You see, gentlemen!" said La Mole. + +"Silence!" said the president; then turning to the clerk: "Against the +life of the King," he continued. "Have you that?" + +"Why, no, no!" cried Coconnas. "Besides, the figure is not that of a +man, but of a woman." + +"What did I tell you, gentlemen?" said La Mole. + +"Monsieur de la Mole," said the president, "answer when you are +questioned, but do not interrupt the examination of others." + +"So you say that it is a woman?" + +"Certainly I say so." + +"In that case, why did it have a crown and a cloak?" + +"By Heaven!" said Coconnas, "that is simple enough, because it was"-- + +La Mole rose and put his finger on his lips. + +"That is so," said Coconnas, "what was I going to say that could +possibly concern these gentlemen?" + +"You persist in stating that the figure is that of a woman?" + +"Yes; certainly I persist." + +"And you refuse to say what woman?" + +"A woman of my country," said La Mole, "whom I loved and by whom I +wished to be loved in return." + +"We are not asking you, Monsieur de la Mole," said the president; "keep +silent, therefore, or you shall be gagged." + +"Gagged!" exclaimed Coconnas; "what do you mean, monsieur of the black +robe? My friend gagged? A gentleman! the idea!" + +"Bring in Réné," said the Attorney-General Laguesle. + +"Yes; bring in Réné," said Coconnas; "we shall see who is right here, we +two or you three." + +Réné entered, pale, aged, and almost unrecognizable to the two friends, +bowed under the weight of the crime he was about to commit much more +than because of those he had already committed. + +"Maître Réné," said the judge, "do you recognize the two accused persons +here present?" + +"Yes, monsieur," replied Réné, in a voice which betrayed his emotion. + +"From having seen them where?" + +"In several places; and especially at my house." + +"How many times did they go to your house?" + +"Once only." + +As Réné spoke the face of Coconnas expanded; La Mole's, on the contrary, +looked as though he had a presentiment of evil. + +"For what purpose were they at your house?" + +Réné seemed to hesitate a moment. + +"To order me to make a waxen figure," said he. + +"Pardon me, Maître Réné," said Coconnas, "you are making a slight +mistake." + +"Silence!" said the president; then turning to Réné, "was this figure to +be that of a man or a woman?" + +"A man," replied Réné. + +Coconnas sprang up as if he had received an electric shock. + +"A man!" he exclaimed. + +"A man," repeated Réné, but in so low a tone that the president scarcely +heard him. + +"Why did this figure of a man have on a mantle and a crown?" + +"Because it represented a king." + +"Infamous liar!" cried Coconnas, infuriated. + +"Keep still, Coconnas, keep still," interrupted La Mole, "let the man +speak; every one has a right to sell his own soul." + +"But not the bodies of others, by Heaven!" + +"And what was the meaning of the needle in the heart of the figure, with +the letter 'M' on a small banner?" + +"The needle was emblematical of the sword or the dagger; the letter 'M' +stands for _mort_." + +Coconnas sprang forward as though to strangle Réné, but four guards +restrained him. + +"That will do," said the Attorney Laguesle, "the court is sufficiently +informed. Take the prisoners to the waiting-room." + +"But," exclaimed Coconnas, "it is impossible to hear one's self accused +of such things without protesting." + +"Protest, monsieur, no one will hinder you. Guards, did you hear?" + +The guards seized the two prisoners and led them out, La Mole by one +door, Coconnas by another. + +Then the attorney signed to the man whom Coconnas had perceived in the +shadow, and said to him: + +"Do not go away, my good fellow, you shall have work this evening." + +"Which shall I begin with, monsieur?" asked the man, respectfully +holding his cap in his hand. + +"With that one," said the president, pointing to La Mole, who could +still be seen disappearing in the distance between the two guards. Then +approaching Réné, who stood trembling, expecting to be led back to the +cell in which he had been confined: + +"You have spoken well, monsieur," said he to him, "you need not worry. +Both the King and the queen shall know that it is to you they are +indebted for the truth of this affair." + +But instead of giving him strength, this promise seemed to terrify Réné, +whose only answer was a deep sigh. + + + + +CHAPTER LVIII. + +THE TORTURE OF THE BOOT. + + +It was only when he had been led away to his new cell and the door was +locked on him that Coconnas, left alone, and no longer sustained by the +discussion with the judges and his anger at Réné, fell into a train of +mournful reflections. + +"It seems to me," thought he, "that matters are turning against us, and +that it is about time to go to the chapel. I suspect we are to be +condemned to death. It looks so. I especially fear being condemned to +death by sentences pronounced behind closed doors, in a fortified +castle, before faces as ugly as those about me. They really wish to cut +off our heads. Well! well! I repeat what I said just now, it is time to +go to chapel." + +These words, uttered in a low tone, were followed by a silence, which in +turn was broken by a cry, shrill, piercing, lugubrious, unlike anything +human. It seemed to penetrate the thick walls, and vibrate against the +iron bars. + +In spite of himself Coconnas shivered; and yet he was so brave that his +courage was like that of wild beasts. He stood still, doubting that the +cry was human, and taking it for the sound of the wind in the trees or +for one of the many night noises which seem to rise or descend from the +two unknown worlds between which floats our globe. Then he heard it +again, shriller, more prolonged, more piercing than before, and this +time not only did Coconnas distinguish the agony of the human tone in +it, but he thought it sounded like La Mole's. + +As he realized this the Piedmontese forgot that he was confined behind +two doors, three gates, and a wall twelve feet thick. He hurled his +entire weight against the sides of the cell as though to push them out +and rush to the aid of the victim, crying, "Are they killing some one +here?" But he unexpectedly encountered the wall and the shock hurled him +back against a stone bench on which he sank down. + +Then there was silence. + +"Oh, they have killed him!" he murmured; "it is abominable! And one is +without arms, here, and cannot defend one's self!" + +He groped about. + +"Ah! this iron chain!" he cried, "I will take it and woe to him who +comes near me!" + +Coconnas rose, seized the iron chain, and with a pull shook it so +violently that it was clear that with two such efforts he would wrench +it away. + +But suddenly the door opened and the light from a couple of torches fell +into the cell. + +"Come, monsieur," said the same voice which had sounded so disagreeable +to him, and which this time, in making itself heard three floors below, +did not seem to him to have acquired any new charm. + +"Come, monsieur, the court is awaiting you." + +"Good," said Coconnas, dropping his ring, "I am to hear my sentence, am +I not?" + +"Yes, monsieur." + +"Oh! I breathe again; let us go," said he. + +He followed the usher, who preceded him with measured tread, holding his +black rod. + +In spite of the satisfaction he had felt at first, as he walked along +Coconnas glanced anxiously about him. + +"Oh!" he murmured, "I do not perceive my good jailer. I confess I miss +him." + +They entered the hall the judges had just left, in which a man was +standing alone, whom Coconnas recognized as the Attorney-General. In the +course of the examination the latter had spoken several times, always +with an animosity easy to understand. + +He was the one whom Catharine, both by letter and in person, had +specially charged with the trial. + +At the farther end of this room, the corners of which were lost in +darkness behind a partly raised curtain, Coconnas saw such dreadful +sights that he felt his limbs give away, and cried out: "Oh, my God!" + +It was not without cause that the cry had been uttered. The sight was +indeed terrible. The portion of the room hidden during the trial by the +curtain, which was now drawn back, looked like the entrance to hell. + +A wooden horse was there, to which were attached ropes, pulleys, and +other accessories of torture. Further on glowed a brazier, which threw +its lurid glare on the surrounding objects, and which added to the +terror of the spectacle. Against one of the pillars which supported the +ceiling stood a man motionless as a statue, holding a rope in his hand. +He looked as though made of the stone of the column against which he +leaned. To the walls above the stone benches, between iron links, chains +were suspended and blades glittered. + +"Oh!" murmured Coconnas, "the chamber of horrors is all ready, +apparently waiting only for the patient! What can it mean?" + +"On your knees, Marc Annibal Coconnas," said a voice which caused that +gentleman to raise his head. "On your knees to hear the sentence just +pronounced on you!" + +This was an invitation against which the whole soul of Annibal +instinctively rebelled. + +But as he was about to refuse two men placed their hands on his +shoulders so unexpectedly and so suddenly that his knees bent under him +on the pavement. The voice continued. + +"Sentence of the court sitting in the prison of Vincennes on Marc +Annibal de Coconnas, accused and convicted of high treason, of an +attempt to poison, of sacrilege and magic against the person of the +King, of a conspiracy against the kingdom, and of having by his +pernicious counsels driven a prince of the blood to rebellion." + +At each charge Coconnas had shaken his head, keeping time like a +fractious child. The judge continued: + +"In consequence of which, the aforesaid Marc Annibal de Coconnas shall +be taken from prison to the Place Saint Jean en Grève to be there +beheaded; his property shall be confiscated; his woods cut down to the +height of six feet; his castles destroyed, and a post planted there with +a copper plate bearing an inscription of his crime and punishment." + +"As for my head," said Coconnas, "I know you will cut that off, for it +is in France, and in great jeopardy; but as for my woods and castles, I +defy all the saws and axes of this most Christian kingdom to harm them." + +"Silence!" said the judge; and he continued: + +"Furthermore, the aforesaid Coconnas"-- + +"What!" interrupted Coconnas, "is something more to be done to me after +my head is cut off? Oh! that seems to me very hard!" + +"No, monsieur," said the judge, "_before_." + +And he resumed: + +"Furthermore, the aforesaid Coconnas before the execution of his +sentence shall undergo the severest torture, consisting of ten wedges"-- + +Coconnas sprang up, flashing a burning glance at the judge. + +"And for what?" he cried, finding no other words but these simple ones +to express the thousand thoughts that surged through his mind. + +In reality this was complete ruin to Coconnas' hopes. He would not be +taken to the chapel until after the torture, from which many frequently +died. The braver and stronger the victim, the more likely he was to die, +for it was considered an act of cowardice to confess; and so long as the +prisoner refused to confess the torture was continued, and not only +continued, but increased. + +The judge did not reply to Coconnas; the rest of the sentence answered +for him. He continued: + +"In order to compel the aforesaid Coconnas to confess in regard to his +accomplices, and the details of the plan and conspiracy." + +"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas; "this is what I call infamous; more than +infamous--cowardly!" + +Accustomed to the anger of his victims, which suffering always changed +to tears, the impassible judge merely made a sign. + +Coconnas was seized by the feet and the shoulders, overpowered, laid on +his back, and bound to the rack before he was able even to see those who +did the act. + +"Wretches!" shouted he, in a paroxysm of fury, straining the bed and the +cords so that the tormentors themselves drew back. "Wretches! torture +me, twist me, break me to pieces, but you shall know nothing, I swear! +Ah! you think, do you, that it is with pieces of wood and steel that a +gentleman of my name is made to speak? Go ahead! I defy you!" + +"Prepare to write, clerk," said the judge. + +"Yes, prepare," shouted Coconnas; "and if you write everything I am +going to tell you you infamous hangmen, you will be kept busy. Write! +write!" + +"Have you anything you wish to confess?" asked the judge in his calm +voice. + +"Nothing; not a word! Go to the devil!" + +"You had better reflect, monsieur. Come, executioner, adjust the boot." + +At these words the man, who until then had stood motionless, the ropes +in his hand, stepped forward from the pillar and slowly approached +Coconnas, who turned and made a grimace at him. + +It was Maître Caboche, the executioner of the provostship of Paris. + +A look of sad surprise showed itself on the face of Coconnas, who, +instead of crying out and growing agitated, lay without moving, unable +to take his eyes from the face of the forgotten friend who appeared at +that moment. + +Without moving a muscle of his face, without showing that he had ever +seen Coconnas anywhere except on the rack, Caboche placed two planks +between the limbs of the victim, two others outside of his limbs, and +bound them securely together by means of the rope he held in his hand. + +This was the arrangement called the "boot." + +For ordinary torture six wedges were inserted between the two planks, +which, on being forced apart, crushed the flesh. + +For severe torture ten wedges were inserted, and then the planks not +only broke the flesh but the bones. + +The preliminaries over, Maître Caboche slipped the end of the wedge +between the two planks, then, mallet in hand, bent on one knee and +looked at the judge. + +"Do you wish to speak?" said the latter. + +"No," resolutely answered Coconnas, although he felt the perspiration +rise to his brow and his hair begin to stand on end. + +"Proceed, then," said the judge. "Insert the first wedge." + +Caboche raised his arm, with its heavy mallet, and struck the wedge a +tremendous blow, which gave forth a dull sound. The rack shook. + +Coconnas did not utter a single word at the first wedge, which usually +caused the most resolute to groan. Moreover, the only expression on his +face was that of indescribable astonishment. He watched Caboche in +amazement, who, with arm raised, half turned towards the judge, stood +ready to repeat the blow. + +"What was your idea in hiding in the forest?" asked the judge. + +"To sit down in the shade," replied Coconnas. + +"Proceed," said the judge. + +Caboche gave a second blow which resounded like the first. + +Coconnas did not move a muscle; he continued to watch the executioner +with the same expression. + +The judge frowned. + +"He is a hard Christian," he murmured; "has the wedge entered?" + +Caboche bent down to look, and in doing so said to Coconnas: + +"Cry out, you poor fellow!" + +Then rising: + +"Up to the head, monsieur," said he. + +"Second wedge," said the judge, coldly. + +The words of Caboche explained all to Coconnas. The worthy executioner +had rendered his friend the greatest service in his power: he was +sparing him not only pain, but more, the shame of confession, by driving +in wedges of leather, the upper part of which was covered with wood, +instead of oak wedges. In this way he was leaving him all his strength +to face the scaffold. + +"Ah! kind, kind Caboche," murmured Coconnas, "fear nothing; I will cry +out since you ask me to, and if you are not satisfied it will be because +you are hard to please." + +Meanwhile Caboche had introduced between the planks the end of a wedge +larger than the first. + +"Strike," cried the judge. + +At this word Caboche struck as if with a single blow he would demolish +the entire prison of Vincennes. + +"Ah! ah! Stop! stop!" cried Coconnas; "a thousand devils! you are +breaking my bones! Take care!" + +"Ah!" said the judge, smiling, "the second seems to take effect; that +surprises me." + +Coconnas panted like a pair of bellows. + +"What were you doing in the forest?" asked the judge. + +"By Heaven! I have already told you. I was enjoying the fresh air." + +"Proceed," said the judge. + +"Confess," whispered Caboche. + +"What?" + +"Anything you wish, but something." + +And he dealt a second blow no less light than the former. + +Coconnas thought he would strangle himself in his efforts to cry out. + +"Oh! oh!" said he; "what is it you want to know, monsieur? By whose +order I was in the forest?" + +"Yes." + +"I was there by order of Monsieur d'Alençon." + +"Write," said the judge. + +"If I committed a crime in setting a trap for the King of Navarre," +continued Coconnas, "I was only an instrument, monsieur, and I was +obeying my master." + +The clerk began to write. + +"Oh! you denounced me, pale-face!" murmured the victim; "but just wait!" + +And he related the visit of François to the King of Navarre, the +interviews between De Mouy and Monsieur d'Alençon, the story of the red +cloak, all as though he were just remembering them between the blows of +the hammer. + +At length he had given such precise, terrible, uncontestable evidence +against D'Alençon, making it seem as though it was extorted from him +only by the pain,--he grimaced, roared, and yelled so naturally, and in +so many different tones of voice,--that the judge himself became +terrified at having to record details so compromising to a son of +France. + +"Well!" said Caboche to himself, "here is a gentleman who does not need +to say things twice, and who gives full measure of work to the clerk. +Great God! what if, instead of leather, the wedges had been of wood!" + +Coconnas was excused from the last wedge; but he had had nine others, +which were enough to have crushed his limbs completely. + +The judge reminded the victim of the mercy allowed him on account of his +confession, and withdrew. + +The prisoner was alone with Caboche. + +"Well," asked the latter, "how are you?" + +"Ah! my friend! my kind friend, my dear Caboche!" exclaimed Coconnas. +"You may be sure I shall be grateful all my life for what you have done +for me." + +"The deuce! but you are right, monsieur, for if they knew what I have +done it would be I who would have to take your place on the rack, and +they would not treat me as I have treated you." + +"But how did the idea come to you?" + +"Well," said Caboche, wrapping the limbs of Coconnas in bloody bands of +linen; "I knew you had been arrested, and that your trial was going on. +I knew that Queen Catharine was anxious for your death. I guessed that +they would put you to the torture and consequently took my precautions." + +"At the risk of what might have happened?" + +"Monsieur," said Caboche, "you are the only gentleman who ever gave me +his hand, and we all have memories and hearts, even though we are +hangmen, and perhaps for that very reason. You will see to-morrow how +well I will do my work." + +"To-morrow?" said Coconnas. + +"Yes." + +"What work?" + +Caboche looked at Coconnas in amazement. + +"What work? Have you forgotten the sentence?" + +"Ah! yes, of course! the sentence!" said Coconnas; "I had forgotten it." + +The fact is that Coconnas had not really forgotten it, but he had not +been thinking of it. + +What he was thinking of was the chapel, the knife hidden under the altar +cloth, of Henriette and the queen, of the vestry door, and the two +horses waiting on the edge of the forest; he was thinking of liberty, of +the ride in the open air, of safety beyond the boundaries of France. + +"Now," said Caboche, "you must be taken skilfully from the rack to the +litter. Do not forget that for every one, even the guards, your limbs +are broken, and that at every jar you must give a cry." + +"Ah! ah!" cried Coconnas, as the two assistants advanced. + +"Come! come! Courage," said Caboche, "if you cry out already, what will +you do in a little while?" + +"My dear Caboche," said Coconnas, "do not have me touched, I beg, by +your estimable acolytes; perhaps their hands are not as light as yours." + +"Place the litter near the racks," said Caboche. + +The attendants obeyed. Maître Caboche raised Coconnas in his arms as if +he were a child and laid him in the litter, but in spite of every care +Coconnas uttered loud shrieks. + +The jailer appeared with a lantern. + +"To the chapel," said he. + +The bearers started after Coconnas had given Caboche a second grasp of +the hand. The first had been of too much use to the Piedmontese for him +not to repeat it. + + + + +CHAPTER LIX. + +THE CHAPEL. + + +In profound silence the mournful procession crossed the two drawbridges +of the fortress and the courtyard which leads to the chapel, through the +windows of which a pale light colored the white faces of the red-robed +priests. + +Coconnas eagerly breathed the night air, although it was heavy with +rain. He looked at the profound darkness and rejoiced that everything +seemed propitious for the flight of himself and his companion. It +required all his will-power, all his prudence, all his self-control to +keep from springing from the litter when on entering the chapel he +perceived near the choir, three feet from the altar, a figure wrapped in +a great white cloak. + +It was La Mole. + +The two soldiers who accompanied the litter stopped outside of the door. + +"Since they have done us the final favor of once more leaving us +together," said Coconnas in a drawling voice, "take me to my friend." + +The bearers had had no different order, and made no objection to +assenting to Coconnas's demand. + +La Mole was gloomy and pale; his head rested against the marble wall; +his black hair, bathed with profuse perspiration, gave to his face the +dull pallor of ivory, and seemed still to stand on end. + +At a sign from the turnkey the two attendants went to find the priest +for whom Coconnas had asked. + +This was the signal agreed on. + +Coconnas followed them with anxious eyes; but he was not the only one +whose glance was riveted on them. + +Scarcely had they disappeared when two women rushed from behind the +altar and hurried to the choir with cries of joy, rousing the air like a +warm and restless breeze which precedes a storm. + +Marguerite rushed towards La Mole, and caught him in her arms. + +La Mole uttered a piercing shriek, like one of the cries Coconnas had +heard in his dungeon and which had so terrified him. + +"My God! What is the matter, La Mole?" cried Marguerite, springing back +in fright. + +La Mole uttered a deep moan and raised his hands to his eyes as though +to hide Marguerite from his sight. + +The queen was more terrified at the silence and this gesture than she +had been at the shriek. + +"Oh!" she exclaimed, "what is the matter? You are covered with blood." + +Coconnas, who had rushed to the altar for the dagger, and who was +already holding Henriette in his arms, now came back. + +"Rise," said Marguerite, "rise, I beg you! You see the time has come." + +A hopelessly sad smile passed over the white lips of La Mole, who seemed +almost unequal to the effort. + +"Beloved queen!" said the young man, "you counted without Catharine, and +consequently without a crime. I underwent the torture, my bones are +broken, my whole body is nothing but a wound, and the effort I make now +to press my lips to your forehead causes me pain worse than death." + +Pale and trembling, La Mole touched his lips to the queen's brow. + +"The rack!" cried Coconnas, "I, too, suffered it, but did not the +executioner do for you what he did for me?" + +Coconnas related everything. + +"Ah!" said La Mole, "I see; you gave him your hand the day of our visit; +I forgot that all men are brothers, and was proud. God has punished me +for it!" + +La Mole clasped his hands. + +Coconnas and the women exchanged a glance of indescribable terror. + +"Come," said the jailer, who until then had stood at the door to keep +watch, and had now returned, "do not waste time, dear Monsieur de +Coconnas; give me my thrust of the dagger, and do it in a way worthy of +a gentleman, for they are coming." + +Marguerite knelt down before La Mole, as if she were one of the marble +figures on a tomb, near the image of the one buried in it. + +"Come, my friend," said Coconnas, "I am strong, I will carry you, I will +put you on your horse, or even hold you in front of me, if you cannot +sit in the saddle; but let us start. You hear what this good man says; +it is a question of life and death." + +La Mole made a superhuman struggle, a final effort. + +"Yes," said he, "it is a question of life or death." + +And he strove to rise. + +Annibal took him by the arm and raised him. During the process La Mole +uttered dull moans, but when Coconnas let go of him to attend to the +turnkey, and when he was supported only by the two women his legs gave +way, and in spite of the effort of Marguerite, who was wildly sobbing, +he fell back in a heap, and a piercing shriek which he could not +restrain echoed pitifully throughout the vaults of the chapel, which +vibrated long after. + +"You see," said La Mole, painfully, "you see, my queen! Leave me; give +me one last kiss and go. I did not confess, Marguerite, and our secret +is hidden in our love and will die with me. Good-by, my queen, my +queen." + +Marguerite, herself almost lifeless, clasped the dear head in her arms, +and pressed on it a kiss which was almost holy. + +"You Annibal," said La Mole, "who have been spared these agonies, who +are still young and able to live, flee, flee; give me the supreme +consolation, my dear friend, of knowing you have escaped." + +"Time flies," said the jailer; "make haste." + +Henriette gently strove to lead Annibal to the door. Marguerite on her +knees before La Mole, sobbing, and with dishevelled hair, looked like a +Magdalene. + +"Flee, Annibal," said La Mole, "flee; do not give our enemies the joyful +spectacle of the death of two innocent men." + +Coconnas quietly disengaged himself from Henriette, who was leading him +to the door, and with a gesture so solemn that it seemed majestic said: + +"Madame, first give the five hundred crowns we promised to this man." + +"Here they are," said Henriette. + +Then turning to La Mole, and shaking his head sadly: + +"As for you, La Mole, you do me wrong to think for an instant that I +could leave you. Have I not sworn to live and die with you? But you are +suffering so, my poor friend, that I forgive you." + +And seating himself resolutely beside his friend Coconnas leaned forward +and kissed his forehead. + +Then gently, as gently as a mother would do to her child, he drew the +dear head towards him, until it rested on his breast. + +Marguerite was numb. She had picked up the dagger which Coconnas had +just let fall. + +"Oh, my queen," said La Mole, extending his arms to her, and +understanding her thought, "my beloved queen, do not forget that I die +in order to destroy the slightest suspicion of our love!" + +"But what can I do for you, then," cried Marguerite, in despair, "if I +cannot die with you?" + +"You can make death sweet to me," replied La Mole; "you can come to me +with smiling lips." + +Marguerite advanced and clasped her hands as if asking him to speak. + +"Do you remember that evening, Marguerite, when in exchange for the life +I then offered you, and which to-day I lay down for you, you made me a +sacred promise." + +Marguerite gave a start. + +"Ah! you do remember," said La Mole, "for you shudder." + +"Yes, yes, I remember, and on my soul, Hyacinthe, I will keep that +promise." + +Marguerite raised her hand towards the altar, as if calling God a second +time to witness her oath. + +La Mole's face lighted up as if the vaulted roof of the chapel had +opened and a heavenly ray had fallen on him. + +"They are coming!" said the jailer. + +Marguerite uttered a cry, and rushed to La Mole, but the fear of +increasing his agony made her pause trembling before him. + +Henriette pressed her lips to Coconnas's brow, and said to him: + +"My Annibal, I understand, and I am proud of you. I well know that your +heroism makes you die, and for that heroism I love you. Before God I +will always love you more than all else, and what Marguerite has sworn +to do for La Mole, although I know not what it is, I swear I will do for +you also." + +And she held out her hand to Marguerite. + +"Ah! thank you," said Coconnas; "that is the way to speak." + +"Before you leave me, my queen," said La Mole, "one last favor. Give me +some last souvenir, that I may kiss it as I mount the scaffold." + +"Ah! yes, yes," cried Marguerite; "here!" + +And she unfastened from her neck a small gold reliquary suspended from a +chain of the same metal. + +"Here," said she, "is a holy relic which I have worn from childhood. My +mother put it around my neck when I was very little and she still loved +me. It was given me by my uncle, Pope Clement and has never left me. +Take it! take it!" + +La Mole took it, and kissed it passionately. + +"They are at the door," said the jailer; "flee, ladies, flee!" + +The two women rushed behind the altar and disappeared. + +At the same moment the priest entered. + + + + +CHAPTER LX. + +THE PLACE SAINT JEAN EN GRÈVE. + + +It was seven o'clock in the morning, and a noisy crowd was waiting in +the squares, the streets, and on the quays. At six o'clock a tumbril, +the same in which after their duel the two friends had been conveyed +half dead to the Louvre, had started from Vincennes and slowly crossed +the Rue Saint Antoine. Along its route the spectators, so huddled +together that they crushed one another, seemed like statues with fixed +eyes and open mouths. + +This day there was to be a heartrending spectacle offered by the queen +mother to the people of Paris. + +On some straw in the tumbril, we have mentioned, which was making its +way through the streets, were two young men, bareheaded, and entirely +clothed in black, leaning against each other. Coconnas supported on his +knees La Mole, whose head hung over the sides of the tumbril, and whose +eyes wandered vaguely here and there. + +The crowd, eager to see even the bottom of the vehicle, crowded forward, +lifted itself up, stood on tiptoe, mounted posts, clung to the angles of +the walls, and appeared satisfied only when it had succeeded in seeing +every detail of the two bodies which were going from the torture to +death. + +It had been rumored that La Mole was dying without having confessed one +of the charges imputed to him; while, on the contrary, Coconnas, it was +asserted, could not endure the torture, and had revealed everything. + +So there were cries on all sides: + +"See the red-haired one! It was he who confessed! It was he who told +everything! He is a coward, and is the cause of the other's death! The +other is a brave fellow, and confessed nothing." + +The two young men heard perfectly, the one the praises, the other the +reproaches, which accompanied their funeral march; and while La Mole +pressed the hands of his friend a sublime expression of scorn lighted up +the face of the Piedmontese, who from the foul tumbril gazed upon the +stupid mob as if he were looking down from a triumphal car. + +Misfortune had done its heavenly work, and had ennobled the face of +Coconnas, as death was about to render divine his soul. + +"Are we nearly there?" asked La Mole. "I can stand no more, my friend. I +feel as if I were going to faint." + +"Wait! wait! La Mole, we are passing by the Rue Tizon and the Rue Cloche +Percée; look! look!" + +"Oh! raise me, raise me, that I may once more gaze on that happy abode." + +Coconnas raised his hand and touched the shoulder of the executioner, +who sat at the front of the tumbril driving. + +"Maître," said he, "do us the kindness to stop a moment opposite the Rue +Tizon." + +Caboche nodded in assent, and drew rein at the place indicated. + +Aided by Coconnas, La Mole raised himself with an effort, and with eyes +blinded by tears gazed at the small house, silent and mute, deserted as +a tomb. A groan burst from him, and in a low voice he murmured: + +"Adieu, adieu, youth, love, life!" + +And his head fell forward on his breast. + +"Courage," said Coconnas; "we may perhaps find all this above." + +"Do you think so?" murmured La Mole. + +"I think so, because the priest said so; and above all, because I hope +so. But do not faint, my friend, or these staring wretches will laugh at +us." + +Caboche heard the last words and whipping his horse with one hand he +extended the other, unseen by any one, to Coconnas. It contained a small +sponge saturated with a powerful stimulant, and La Mole, after smelling +it and rubbing his forehead with it, felt himself revived and +reanimated. + +"Ah!" said La Mole, "I am better," and he kissed the reliquary, which he +wore around his neck. + +As they turned a corner of the quay and reached the small edifice built +by Henry II. they saw the scaffold rising bare and bloody on its +platform above the heads of the crowd. + +"Dear friend," said La Mole, "I wish I might be the first to die." + +Coconnas again touched the hangman's shoulder. + +"What is it, my gentleman?" said the latter, turning around. + +"My good fellow," said Coconnas, "you will do what you can for me, will +you not? You said you would." + +"Yes, and I repeat it." + +"My friend has suffered more than I and consequently has less +strength"-- + +"Well?" + +"Well, he says that it would cause him too much pain to see me die +first. Besides, if I were to die before him he would have no one to +support him on the scaffold." + +"Very well," said Caboche, wiping away a tear with the back of his hand; +"be easy, it shall be as you wish." + +"And with one blow, eh?" said the Piedmontese in a low tone. + +"With one blow." + +"That is well. If you have to make up for it, make up on me." + +The tumbril stopped. They had arrived. Coconnas put on his hat. + +A murmur like that of the waves at sea reached the ears of La Mole. He +strove to rise, but strength failed him. Caboche and Coconnas supported +him under the arms. + +The place was paved with heads; the steps of the Hôtel de Ville seemed +an amphitheatre peopled with spectators. Each window was filled with +animated faces, the eyes of which seemed on fire. + +When they saw the handsome young man, no longer able to support himself +on his bruised legs, make a last effort to reach the scaffold, a great +shout rose like a cry of universal desolation. Men groaned and women +uttered plaintive shrieks. + +"He was one of the greatest courtiers!" said the men; "and he should not +have to die at Saint Jean en Grève, but at the Pré aux Clercs." + +"How handsome he is! How pale!" said the women; "he is the one who would +not confess." + +"Dearest friend," said La Mole, "I cannot stand. Carry me!" + +"Wait," said Coconnas. + +He signed to the executioner, who stepped aside; then, stooping, he +lifted La Mole in his arms as if he were a child, and without faltering +carried his burden up the steps of the scaffold, where he put him down, +amid the frantic shouting and applause of the multitude. Coconnas raised +his hat and bowed. Then he threw the hat on the scaffold beside him. + +"Look round," said La Mole, "do you not see them somewhere?" + +Coconnas slowly glanced around the place, and, having reached a certain +point, without removing his eyes from it he laid his hand on his +friend's shoulder. + +"Look," said he, "look at the window of that small tower!" + +With his other hand he pointed out to La Mole the little building which +still stands at the corner of the Rue de la Vannerie and the Rue +Mouton,--a reminder of past ages. + +Somewhat back from the window two women dressed in black were leaning +against each other. + +"Ah!" said La Mole, "I feared only one thing, and that was to die +without seeing her again. I have seen her; now I can go." + +And with his eyes riveted on the small window he raised the reliquary to +his lips and covered it with kisses. + +Coconnas saluted the two women with as much grace as if he were in a +drawing-room. In response to this they waved their handkerchiefs bathed +in tears. + +Caboche now touched Coconnas on the shoulder, and looked at him +significantly. + +"Yes, yes," said the Piedmontese. Then turning to La Mole: + +"Embrace me," said he, "and die like a man. This will not be hard for +you, my friend; you are so brave!" + +"Ah!" said La Mole, "there will be no merit in my dying bravely, +suffering as I do." + +The priest approached and held the crucifix before La Mole, who smiled +and pointed to the reliquary in his hand. + +"Never mind," said the priest, "ask strength from Him who suffered what +you are about to suffer." + +La Mole kissed the feet of the Christ. + +"Commend me to the prayers of the nuns of the Avens Sainte Vierge." + +"Make haste, La Mole," said Coconnas, "you cause me such suffering that +I feel myself growing weak." + +"I am ready," said La Mole. + +"Can you keep your head steady?" inquired Caboche, holding his sword +behind La Mole, who was on his knees. + +"I hope so," said the latter. + +"Then all will go well." + +"But," said La Mole, "you will not forget what I asked of you? This +reliquary will open the doors to you." + +"Be easy. Now try to keep your head straight." + +La Mole raised his head and turned his eyes towards the little tower. + +"Adieu, Marguerite," said he; "bless"-- + +He never finished. With one blow of his sword, as swift as a stroke of +lightning, Caboche severed the head, which rolled to the feet of +Coconnas. + +The body fell back gently as if going to rest. + +A great cry rose from thousands of voices, and, among them, it seemed to +Coconnas that he heard a shriek more piercing than all the rest. + +"Thank you, my good friend," said Coconnas, and a third time he extended +his hand to the hangman. + +"My son," said the priest, "have you nothing to confess to God?" + +"Faith no, father," said the Piedmontese; "all that I had to say I said +to you yesterday." + +Then turning to Caboche: + +"Now, executioner, my last friend, one more favor!" + +Before kneeling down he turned on the crowd a glance so calm and serene +that a murmur of admiration rose, which soothed his ear and flattered +his pride. Then, raising the head of his friend and pressing a kiss on +the purple lips, he gave a last look toward the little tower, and +kneeling down, still holding the well-loved head in his hand, he said: + +"Now!" + +Scarcely had he uttered the word before Caboche had cut off his head. + +This done, the poor hangman began to tremble. + +"It was time it was over," said he. "Poor fellow!" + +And with difficulty he drew from the clinched fingers of La Mole the +reliquary of gold. Then he threw his cloak over the sad remains which +the tumbril was to convey to his own abode. + +The spectacle over, the crowd dispersed. + + + + +CHAPTER LXI. + +THE HEADSMAN'S TOWER. + + +Night descended over the city, which still trembled at the remembrance +of the execution, the details of which passed from mouth to mouth, +saddening the happy supper hour in every home. In contrast to the city, +which was silent and mournful, the Louvre was noisy, joyous, and +illuminated. There was a grand fête at the palace, a fête ordered by +Charles IX., a fête he had planned for that evening at the very time +that he had ordered the execution for the morning. + +The previous evening the Queen of Navarre had received word to be +present, and, in the hope that La Mole and Coconnas would have escaped +during the night, since every measure had been taken for their safety, +she had promised her brother to comply with his wishes. + +But when she had lost all hope, after the scene in the chapel, after, +out of a last feeling of piety for that love, the greatest and the +deepest she had ever known, she had been present at the execution, she +resolved that neither prayers nor threats should force her to attend a +joyous festival at the Louvre the same day on which she had witnessed so +terrible a scene at the Grève. + +That day King Charles had given another proof of the will power which no +one perhaps carried as far as he. In bed for a fortnight, weak as a +dying man, pale as a corpse, yet he rose about five o'clock and donned +his most beautiful clothes, although during his toilet he fainted three +times. + +At eight o'clock he asked what had become of his sister, and inquired if +any one had seen her and what she was doing. No one could tell him, for +the queen had gone to her apartments about eleven o'clock and had +absolutely refused admittance to every one. + +But there was no refusal for Charles. Leaning on the arm of Monsieur de +Nancey, he went to the queen's rooms and entered unannounced by the +secret corridor. + +Although he had expected a melancholy sight, and had prepared himself +for it in advance, that which he saw was even more distressing than he +had anticipated. + +Marguerite, half dead, was lying on a divan, her head buried in the +cushions, neither weeping nor praying, but moaning like one in great +agony; and this she had been doing ever since her return from the Grève. +At the other end of the chamber Henriette de Nevers, that daring woman, +lay stretched on the carpet unconscious. On coming back from the Grève +her strength, like Marguerite's, had given out, and poor Gillonne was +going from one to the other, not daring to offer a word of consolation. + +In the crises which follow great catastrophes one hugs one's grief like +a treasure, and any one who attempts to divert us, ever so slightly, is +looked on as an enemy. Charles IX. closed the door, and leaving Nancey +in the corridor entered, pale and trembling. + +Neither of the women had seen him. Gillonne alone, who was trying to +revive Henriette, rose on one knee, and looked in a startled way at the +King. + +The latter made a sign with his hand, whereupon the girl rose, +courtesied, and withdrew. + +Charles then approached Marguerite, looked at her a moment in silence, +and in a tone of which his harsh voice was supposed to be incapable, +said: + +"Margot! my sister!" + +The young woman started and sat up. + +"Your Majesty!" said she. + +"Come, sister, courage." + +Marguerite raised her eyes to Heaven. + +"Yes," said Charles, "but listen to me." + +The Queen of Navarre made a sign of assent. + +"You promised me to come to the ball," said Charles. + +"I!" exclaimed Marguerite. + +"Yes, and after your promise you are expected; so that if you do not +come every one will wonder why." + +"Excuse me, brother," said Marguerite, "you see that I am suffering +greatly." + +"Exert yourself." + +For an instant Marguerite seemed to try to summon her courage, then +suddenly she gave way and fell back among the cushions. + +"No, no, I cannot go," said she. + +Charles took her hand and seating himself on the divan said: + +"You have just lost a friend, I know, Margot; but look at me. Have I not +lost all my friends, even my mother? You can always weep when you wish +to; but I, at the moment of my greatest sorrows, am always forced to +smile. You suffer; but look at me! I am dying. Come, Margot, courage! I +ask it of you, sister, in the name of our honor! We bear like a cross of +agony the reputation of our house; let us bear it, sister, as the +Saviour bore his cross to Calvary; and if on the way we stagger, as he +did, let us like him rise brave and resigned." + +"Oh, my God! my God!" cried Marguerite. + +"Yes," said Charles, answering her thought; "the sacrifice is severe, +sister, but each one has his own burden, some of honor, others of life. +Do you suppose that with my twenty-five years, and the most beautiful +throne in the world, I do not regret dying? Look at me! My eyes, my +complexion, my lips are those of a dying man, it is true; but my smile, +does not my smile imply that I still hope? and in a week, a month at the +most, you will be weeping for me, sister, as you now weep for him who +died to-day." + +"Brother!" exclaimed Marguerite, throwing her arms about Charles's neck. + +"So dress yourself, dear Marguerite," said the King, "hide your pallor +and come to the ball. I have given orders for new jewels to be brought +to you, and ornaments worthy of your beauty." + +"Oh! what are diamonds and dresses to me now?" said Marguerite. + +"Life is long, Marguerite," said Charles, smiling, "at least for you." + +The pages withdrew; Gillonne alone remained. + +"Prepare everything that is necessary for me, Gillonne," said +Marguerite. + +"Sister, remember one thing: sometimes it is by stifling or rather by +dissimulating our suffering that we show most honor to the dead." + +"Well, sire," said Marguerite, shuddering, "I will go to the ball." + +A tear, which soon dried on his parched eyelid, moistened Charles's eye. + +He leaned over his sister, kissed her forehead, paused an instant before +Henriette, who had neither seen nor heard him, and murmured: + +"Poor woman!" + +Then he went out silently. + +Soon after several pages entered, bringing boxes and jewel-caskets. + +Marguerite made a sign for them to set everything down. + +Gillonne looked at her mistress in astonishment. + +"Yes," said Marguerite, in a tone the bitterness of which it is +impossible to describe; yes, I will dress and go to the ball; I am +expected. Make haste; the day will then be complete. A fête on the Grève +in the morning, a fête in the Louvre in the evening." + +"And the duchess?" said Gillonne. + +"She is quite happy. She may remain here; she can weep; she can suffer +at her ease. She is not the daughter of a king, the wife of a king, the +sister of a king. She is not a queen. Help me to dress, Gillonne." + +The young girl obeyed. The jewels were magnificent, the dress gorgeous. +Marguerite had never been so beautiful. + +She looked at herself in a mirror. + +"My brother is right," said she; "a human being is indeed a miserable +creature." + +At that moment Gillonne returned. + +"Madame," said she, "a man is asking for you." + +"For me?" + +"Yes." + +"Who is he?" + +"I do not know, but he is terrible to look at; the very sight of him +makes me shudder." + +"Go and ask him his name," said Marguerite, turning pale. + +Gillonne withdrew, and returned in a few moments. + +"He will not give his name, madame, but he begged me to give you this." + +Gillonne handed to Marguerite the reliquary she had given to La Mole the +previous evening. + +"Oh! bring him in, bring him in!" said the queen quickly, growing paler +and more numb than before. + +A heavy step shook the floor. The echo, indignant, no doubt, at having +to repeat such a sound, moaned along the wainscoting. A man stood on the +threshold. + +"You are"--said the queen. + +"He whom you met one day near Montfaucon, madame, and who in his tumbril +brought back two wounded gentlemen to the Louvre." + +"Yes, yes, I know you. You are Maître Caboche." + +"Executioner of the provostship of Paris, madame." + +These were the only words Henriette had heard for an hour. She raised +her pale face from her hands and looked at the man with her sapphire +eyes, from which a double flame seemed to dart. + +"And you come"--said Marguerite, trembling. + +"To remind you of your promise to the younger of the two gentlemen, who +charged me to give you this reliquary. You remember the promise, +madame?" + +"Yes, yes," exclaimed the queen, "and never has a noble soul had more +satisfaction than his shall have; but where is"-- + +"At my house with the body." + +"At your house? Why did you not bring it?" + +"I might have been stopped at the gate of the Louvre, and compelled to +raise my cloak. What would they have said if they had seen a head under +it?" + +"That is right; keep it. I will come for it to-morrow." + +"To-morrow, madame," said Caboche, "may perhaps be too late." + +"How so?" + +"Because the queen mother wanted the heads of the first victims executed +by me to be kept for her magical experiments." + +"Oh! What profanation! The heads of our well-beloved! Henriette," cried +Marguerite, turning to her friend, who had risen as if a spring had +placed her on her feet, "Henriette, my angel, do you hear what this man +says?" + +"Yes; what must we do?" + +"Go with him." + +Then uttering a cry of pain by which great sufferers return to life: + +"Ah! I was so happy," said Henriette; "I was almost dead." + +Meanwhile Marguerite had thrown a velvet cloak over her bare shoulders. + +"Come," said she, "we will go and see them once more." + +Telling Gillonne to have all the doors closed, the queen gave orders +for a litter to be brought to the private entrance, and taking Henriette +by the arm, she descended by the secret corridor, signing to Caboche to +follow. + +At the lower door was the litter; at the gate Caboche's attendant waited +with a lantern. Marguerite's porters were trusty men, deaf and dumb, +more to be depended on than if they had been beasts of burden. + +They walked for about ten minutes, preceded by Caboche and his servant, +carrying the lantern. Then they stopped. The hangman opened the door, +while his man went ahead. + +Marguerite stepped from the litter and helped out the Duchesse de +Nevers. In the deep grief which bound them together it was the nervous +organism which was the stronger. + +The headsman's tower rose before them like a dark, vague giant, giving +out a lurid gleam from two narrow upper windows. + +The attendant reappeared at the door. + +"You can enter, ladies," said Caboche; "every one is asleep in the +tower." + +At the same moment the light from above was extinguished. + +The two women, holding to each other, passed through the small gothic +door, and reached a dark hall with damp and uneven pavement. At the end +of a winding corridor they perceived a light and guided by the gruesome +master of the place they set out towards it. The door closed behind +them. + +Caboche, a wax torch in hand, admitted them into a lower room filled +with smoke. In the centre was a table containing the remains of a supper +for three. These three were probably the hangman, his wife, and his +chief assistant. In a conspicuous place on the wall a parchment was +nailed, sealed with the seal of the King. It was the hangman's license. +In a corner was a long-handled sword. This was the flaming sword of +justice. + +Here and there were various rough drawings representing martyrs +undergoing the torture. + +At the door Caboche made a low bow. + +"Your majesty will excuse me," said he, "if I ventured to enter the +Louvre and bring you here. But it was the last wish of the gentleman, so +that I felt I"-- + +"You did well, Maître," said Marguerite, "and here is a reward for you." + +Caboche looked sadly at the large purse which Marguerite laid on the +table. + +"Gold!" said he; "always gold! Alas! madame, if I only could buy back +for gold the blood I was forced to spill to-day!" + +"Maître," said Marguerite, looking around with a sad hesitation, +"Maître, do we have to go to some other room? I do not see"-- + +"No, madame, they are here; but it is a sad sight, and one which I could +have spared you by wrapping up in my cloak that for which you have +come." + +Marguerite and Henriette looked at each other. + +"No," said the queen, who had read in her friend's eye the same thought +as in her own; "no, show us the way and we will follow." + +Caboche took the torch and opened an oaken door at the top of a short +stairway, which led to an underground chamber. At that instant a current +of air blew some sparks from the torch and brought to the princesses an +ill-smelling odor of dampness and blood. Henriette, white as an +alabaster statue, leaned on the arm of her less agitated friend; but at +the first step she swayed. + +"I can never do it," said she. + +"When one loves truly, Henriette," replied the queen, "one loves beyond +death." + +It was a sight both horrible and touching presented by the two women, +glowing with youth, beauty, and jewels, as they bent their heads beneath +the foul, chalky ceiling, the weaker leaning on the stronger, the +stronger clinging to the arm of the hangman. + +They reached the final step. On the floor of the cellar lay two human +forms covered with a wide cloth of black serge. + +Caboche raised a corner of it, and, lowering the torch: + +"See, madame," said he. + +In their black clothes lay the two young men, side by side, in the +strange symmetry of death. Their heads had been placed close to their +bodies, from which they seemed to be separated only by a bright red +circle about the neck. Death had not disunited their hands, for either +from chance or the kind care of the hangman the right hand of La Mole +rested in Coconnas's left hand. + +There was a look of love under the lids of La Mole, and a smile of scorn +under those of Coconnas. + +Marguerite knelt down by the side of her lover, and with hands that +sparkled with gems gently raised the head she had so greatly loved. + +The Duchesse de Nevers leaned against the wall, unable to remove her +eyes from that pale face on which so often she had gazed for pleasure +and for love. + +"La Mole! Dear La Mole!" murmured Marguerite. + +"Annibal! Annibal!" cried the duchess, "so beautiful! so proud! so +brave! Never again will you answer me!" + +And her eyes filled with tears. + +This woman, so scornful, so intrepid, so insolent in happiness; this +woman who carried scepticism as far as absolute doubt, passion to the +point of cruelty; this woman had never thought of death. + +Marguerite was the first to move. + +She put into a bag, embroidered with pearls and perfumed with finest +essences, the head of La Mole, more beautiful than ever as it rested +against the velvet and the gold, and the beauty of which was to be +preserved by a special preparation, used at that time in the embalming +of royal personages. + +Henriette then drew near and wrapped the head of Coconnas in a fold of +her cloak. + +And both women, bending beneath their grief more than beneath their +burdens, ascended the stairs with a last look at the remains which they +left to the mercy of the hangman in that sombre abode of ordinary +criminals. + +"Do not fear, madame," said Caboche, who understood their look, "the +gentlemen, I promise you, shall be buried in holy ground." + +"And you will have masses said for them with this," said Henriette, +taking from her neck a magnificent necklace of rubies, and handing it to +the hangman. + +They returned to the Louvre by the same road by which they had gone. At +the gate the queen gave her name; at the foot of her private stairway +she descended and, returning to her rooms, laid her sad burden in the +closet adjoining her sleeping-room, destined from that moment to become +an oratory. Then, leaving Henriette in her room, paler and more +beautiful than ever, she entered the great ballroom, the same room in +which, two years and a half ago, the first chapter of our history +opened. + +All eyes were turned on her, but she bore the general gaze with a proud +and almost joyous air. + +She had religiously carried out the last wish of her friend. + +Seeing her, Charles pushed tremblingly through the gilded crowd around +her. + +"Sister," said he, aloud, "I thank you." + +Then in a low tone: + +"Take care!" said he, "you have a spot of blood on your arm." + +"Ah! what difference does that make, sire," said Marguerite, "since I +have a smile on my lips?" + + + + +CHAPTER LXII. + +THE SWEAT OF BLOOD. + + +A few days after the terrible scene we have just described, that is, on +the 30th of May, 1574, while the court was at Vincennes, suddenly a +great commotion was heard in the chamber of the King. The latter had +been taken ill in the midst of the ball he had given the day of the +execution of the two young men, and had been ordered by his physicians +into the pure air of the country. + +It was eight o'clock in the morning. A small group of courtiers were +talking excitedly in the antechamber, when suddenly a cry was heard, and +Charles's nurse appeared at the door, her eyes filled with tears, +calling frantically: + +"Help! Help!" + +"Is his Majesty worse?" asked the Captain de Nancey, whom, as we know, +the King had relieved from all duty to Queen Catharine in order to +attach him to himself. + +"Oh! Blood! Blood!" cried the nurse. "The doctors! call the doctors!" + +Mozille and Ambroise Paré in turn attended the august patient, and the +latter, seeing the King fall asleep, had taken advantage of the fact to +withdraw for a few moments. Meanwhile a great perspiration had broken +out all over the King; and as Charles suffered from a relaxation of the +capillary vessels, which caused a hæmorrhage of the skin, the bloody +sweat had alarmed the nurse, unaccustomed to this strange phenomenon, +who, being a Protestant, kept repeating that it was a judgment for the +blood of the Huguenots shed in the massacre of Saint Bartholomew. + +The courtiers went in all directions in search of the doctor, who could +not be far away, and whom they could not fail to meet. The antechamber, +therefore, became deserted, every one being anxious to show his zeal in +bringing the much-needed physician. + +Just then a door opened and Catharine appeared. She passed hurriedly +through the antechamber and hastily entered the apartment of her son. + +Charles was stretched on his bed, his eyes closed, his breast heaving; +from his body oozed a crimson sweat. His hand hung over the bed, and +from the end of each finger dropped a ruby liquid. It was a horrible +sight. + +At the sound of his mother's steps, as if he knew she was there, Charles +sat up. + +"Pardon, madame," said he, looking at her, "but I desire to die in +peace." + +"To die, my son?" said Catharine. "This is only a passing attack of your +wretched trouble. Would you have us despair in this way?" + +"I tell you, madame, I feel that my soul is about to pass away. I tell +you, madame, that death is near me, by Heaven! I feel what I feel, and I +know what I am talking about!" + +"Sire," said the queen, "your imagination is your most serious trouble. +Since the well-merited punishment of those two sorcerers, those +assassins, La Mole and Coconnas, your physical suffering should have +diminished. The mental trouble alone continues, and if I could talk with +you for just ten minutes I could prove to you"-- + +"Nurse," said Charles, "watch at the door that no one may enter. Queen +Catharine de Médicis wishes to speak with her well-loved son Charles +IX." + +The nurse withdrew. + +"Well," continued Charles, "this interview will have to take place some +day or other, and better to-day than to-morrow. Besides, to-morrow may +be too late. But a third person must be present." + +"Why?" + +"Because I tell you I am dying," repeated Charles with frightful +seriousness; "because at any moment death may enter this chamber, as +you have done, pale, silent, and unannounced. It is, therefore, time. +Last night I settled my personal affairs; this morning I will arrange +those of the kingdom." + +"What person do you desire to see?" asked Catharine. + +"My brother, madame. Have him summoned." + +"Sire," said the queen, "I see with pleasure that the prejudices +dictated by hatred rather than pain are leaving your mind, as they soon +will fade from your heart. Nurse!" cried Catharine, "nurse!" + +The woman, who was keeping watch outside, opened the door. + +"Nurse," said Catharine, "by order of my son, when Monsieur de Nancey +returns say to him to summon the Duc d'Alençon." + +Charles made a sign which detained the woman. + +"I said my brother, madame," said Charles. + +Catharine's eyes dilated like those of a tigress about to show her +anger. But Charles raised his hand imperatively. + +"I wish to speak to my brother Henry," said he. "Henry alone is my +brother; not he who is king yonder, but he who is a prisoner here. Henry +shall know my last wishes." + +"And do you think," exclaimed the Florentine, with unusual boldness in +the face of the dread will of her son, her hatred for the Béarnais being +strong enough to make her forget her customary dissimulation,--"do you +think that if, as you say, you are near the tomb, I will yield to any +one, especially a stranger, my right to be present at your last hour; my +right as queen and mother?" + +"Madame," said Charles, "I am still King; and I still command. I tell +you that I desire to speak to my brother Henry and yet you do not summon +my captain of the guard. A thousand devils! I warn you, madame, I still +have strength enough to go for him myself." + +The King made a movement as if to rise from the bed, which brought to +light his body, bloody like Christ's after the flogging. + +"Sire," cried Catharine, holding him back, "you wrong us all. You forget +the insults given to our family, you repudiate our blood. A son of +France alone should kneel before the death-bed of a King of France. As +to me, my place is marked out; it is here by the laws of nature as well +as the laws of royalty. Therefore I shall remain." + +"And by what right do you remain, madame?" demanded Charles IX. + +"Because I am your mother." + +"You are no more my mother, madame, than is the Duc d'Alençon my +brother." + +"You are mad, monsieur," said Catharine; "since when is she who gives +birth to a child no longer his mother?" + +"From the moment, madame, when the unnatural mother takes away that +which she gives," replied Charles, wiping away a bloody sweat from his +lips. + +"What do you mean, Charles? I do not understand you," murmured +Catharine, gazing at her son, her eyes dilated with astonishment. + +"But you will, madame." + +Charles searched under his pillow and drew out a small silver key. + +"Take this, madame, and open my travelling-box. It contains certain +papers which will speak for me." + +Charles pointed to a magnificent carved box, closed with a silver lock, +like the key, which occupied the most conspicuous place in the room. + +Catharine, dominated by the look and manner of Charles, obeyed, advanced +slowly to the box, and opened it. But no sooner had she looked into it +than she suddenly sprang back as if she had seen some sleeping reptile +inside it. + +"Well," said Charles, who had not taken his eyes from his mother, "what +is there in the box to startle you, madame?" + +"Nothing," said Catharine. + +"Then put in your hand, madame, and take out a book that is there; there +is one, is there not?" added Charles, with a pale smile, more terrible +in him than a threat in another. + +"Yes," faltered Catharine. + +"A book on hunting?" + +"Yes." + +"Take it out and bring it to me." + +In spite of her assurance Catharine turned pale, and trembled in every +limb, as she extended her hand towards the box. + +"Fatality!" she murmured, raising the book. + +"Very good," said Charles, "now listen; this book on hunting--I loved +the chase madly, above everything else--I read this book too eagerly, do +you understand, madame?" + +Catharine gave a dull moan. + +"It was a weakness," continued Charles; "burn it, madame. The weakness +of kings and queens must not be known!" + +Catharine stepped to the glowing hearth, and dropped the book into the +flames. + +Then, standing motionless and silent, she watched with haggard eye the +bluish light which rose from the poisoned leaves. + +As the book burned a strong odor of arsenic spread through the room. +Soon the volume was entirely destroyed. + +"And now, madame," said Charles, with irresistible majesty, "call my +brother." + +Catharine, overcome, crushed under a multiple emotion which her profound +wisdom could not analyze, and which her almost superhuman strength could +not combat, took a step forward as if to speak. + +The mother grew remorseful; the queen was afraid; the poisoner felt a +return of hatred. + +The latter sentiment dominated. + +"Curse him!" she cried, rushing from the room, "he triumphs, he gains +his end; curse him! curse him!" + +"You understand, my brother, my brother Henry," cried Charles, calling +after his mother; "my brother Henry, with whom I wish to speak instantly +regarding the regency of the kingdom!" + +Almost at the same instant Maître Ambroise Paré entered through the door +opposite the one by which the queen had just left, and, pausing on the +threshold, noticed the peculiar odor in the room. + +"Who has been burning arsenic here?" said he. + +"I," replied Charles. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIII. + +THE DONJON OF THE PRISON OF VINCENNES. + + +Henry of Navarre was strolling dreamily along the terrace of the prison. +He knew the court was at the château, not a hundred feet away, and +through the walls it seemed as if his piercing eye could picture Charles +as he lay dying. + +The weather was perfect. A broad band of sunlight lay on the distant +fields, bathing in liquid gold the tops of the forest trees, proud of +the richness of their first foliage. The very stones of the prison +itself, gray as they were, seemed impregnated with the gentle light of +heaven, and some flowers, lured by the breath of the east wind, had +pushed through the crevices of the wall, and were raising their disks of +red and yellow velvet to the kisses of the warm air. + +But Henry's eyes were fixed neither on the verdant plains nor on the +gilded tree tops. His glance went beyond, and was fixed, full of +ambition, on the capital of France, destined one day to become the +capital of the world. + +"Paris," murmured the King of Navarre, "there is Paris; that is, joy, +triumph, glory, power, and happiness. Paris, in which is the Louvre, and +the Louvre, in which is the throne; and only one thing separates me from +this Paris, for which I so long, and that something the stones at my +feet, which shut me in with my enemy!" + +As he glanced from Paris to Vincennes, he perceived on his left, in a +valley, partly hidden by flowering almond-trees, a man, whose cuirass +sparkled in the sunlight at its owner's slightest movement. + +This man rode a fiery steed and led another which seemed no less +impatient. + +The King of Navarre fixed his eyes on this cavalier and saw him draw his +sword from his sheath, place his handkerchief on the point, and wave it +like a signal. + +At the same instant the signal was repeated from the opposite hill, then +all around the château a belt of handkerchiefs seemed to flutter. + +It was De Mouy and his Huguenots, who, knowing the King was dying, and +fearing that some attempt might be made on Henry's life, had gathered +together, ready to defend or attack. + +Henry, with his eyes still on the horseman he had seen first, bent over +the balustrade, and shading his eyes with his hand to keep out the +dazzling rays of the sun, recognized the young Huguenot. + +"De Mouy!" he exclaimed, as though the latter could hear him. + +And in his joy at seeing himself surrounded by friends, the king raised +his hat and waved his scarf. + +All the white banners were again set in motion with an energy which +proved the joy of their owners. + +"Alas! they are waiting for me," said Henry, "and I cannot join them. +Why did I not do so when I could? Now it is too late!" + +He made a despairing gesture, to which De Mouy returned a sign which +meant, "I will wait." + +Just then Henry heard steps on the stone stairs. He hastily withdrew. +The Huguenots understood the cause of his sudden disappearance, and +their swords were returned to their sheaths and their handkerchiefs +disappeared. + +Henry saw on the stairs a woman whose quick breathing showed that she +had come in haste. + +He recognized, not without the secret dread he always felt on seeing +her, Catharine de Médicis. + +Behind her were two guards who stopped at the head of the stairs. + +"Oh!" thought Henry, "it must be something new and important that makes +the queen mother come to seek me on the balcony of the prison of +Vincennes." + +Catharine seated herself on a stone bench against the battlement to +recover her breath. + +Henry approached her, and with his most gracious smile: + +"Are you seeking me, my good mother?" + +"Yes, monsieur," replied Catharine, "I wish to give you a final proof of +my attachment. The King is dying and wishes to see you." + +"Me!" said Henry, with a start of joy. + +"Yes. He has been told, I am sure, that not only do you covet the throne +of Navarre but that of France as well." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Henry. + +"It is not true, I know, but he believes it, and no doubt the object of +the interview he wishes with you is to lay a snare for you." + +"For me?" + +"Yes. Before dying Charles wants to know what there is to hope or fear +from you. And on your answer to his offer, mark you, will depend his +final commands, that is, your life or death." + +"But what will he offer me?" + +"How do I know? Impossibilities, probably." + +"But have you no idea?" + +"No; but suppose for instance"-- + +Catharine paused. + +"What." + +"Suppose he credited you with these ambitious aims of yours he has heard +about; suppose he should wish to hear these aims from your own lips; +suppose he should tempt you as once they used to tempt the guilty in +order to provoke a confession without torture; suppose," continued +Catharine, looking fixedly at Henry, "he were to offer you a kingdom, +the regency!" + +A thrill of indescribable joy pervaded Henry's weary heart, but he +guessed the snare and his strong and supple soul rebounded. + +"Me?" said he; "the snare would be too palpable; offer me the regency +when there is you yourself and my brother D'Alençon?" + +Catharine compressed her lips to conceal her satisfaction. + +"Then," said she, quickly, "you would refuse it?" + +"The King is dead," thought Henry, "and she is laying a trap for me." + +Aloud, he said: + +"I must first hear what the King of France has to say; for from your own +words, madame, all this is mere supposition." + +"Doubtless," said Catharine; "but you can tell me your intentions." + +"Why!" said Henry, innocently, "having no pretensions, I have no +intentions." + +"That is no answer," said Catharine, feeling that time was flying, and +giving way to her anger; "you can give some answer." + +"I cannot answer suppositions, madame; a positive resolution is so +difficult and so grave a thing to assume that I must wait for facts." + +"Listen, monsieur," said Catharine; "there is no time to lose, and we +are wasting it in vain discussion, in toying with words. Let us play our +rôle of king and queen. If you accept the regency you are a dead man." + +"The King lives," thought Henry. + +Then aloud: + +"Madame," said he, firmly, "God holds the lives of men and of kings in +his hands. He will inspire me. Let his Majesty be informed that I am +ready to see him." + +"Reflect, monsieur." + +"During the two years in which I have been persecuted, during the month +I have been a prisoner," replied Henry, bravely, "I have had time to +reflect, madame, and I have reflected. Have the goodness, therefore, to +go to the King before me, and to tell him that I am following you. These +two guards," added Henry, pointing to the soldiers, "will see that I do +not escape. Moreover, that is not my intention." + +There was such firmness in Henry's tone that Catharine saw that all her +attempts, under whatever disguise, would not succeed. Therefore she +hastily descended. + +As soon as she had disappeared Henry went to the parapet and made a sign +to De Mouy, which meant: "Draw near and be ready in case of necessity." + +De Mouy, who had dismounted, sprang into the saddle, and still leading +the second horse galloped to within musket-shot of the prison. + +Henry thanked him by a gesture, and descended. + +On the first landing he found the two soldiers who were waiting for him. + +A double troop of Swiss and light-horse guarded the entrance to the +court, and to enter or leave the château it was necessary to traverse a +double line of halberds. + +Catharine had stopped and was waiting for him. + +She signed to the two soldiers to go on, and laying her hand on Henry's +arm, said: + +"This court has two gates. At one, behind the apartments of the King, if +you refuse the regency, a good horse and freedom await you. At the +other, through which you have just passed, if you listen to the voice of +ambition--What do you say?" + +"I say that if the King makes me regent, madame, I, and not you, shall +give orders to the soldiers. I say that if I leave the castle at night, +all these pikes, halberds, and muskets shall be lowered before me." + +"Madman!" murmured Catharine, exasperated, "believe me, and do not play +this terrible game of life and death with me." + +"Why not?" said Henry, looking closely at Catharine; "why not with you +as well as with another, since up to this time I have won?" + +"Go to the King's apartments, monsieur, since you are unwilling to +believe or listen to anything," said Catharine, pointing to the stairway +with one hand, and with the other toying with one of the two poisoned +daggers she always wore in the black shagreen case, which has become +historical. + +"Pass before me, madame," said Henry; "so long as I am not regent, the +honor of precedence belongs to you." + +Catharine, thwarted in all her plans, did not attempt to struggle, but +ascended the stairs ahead of the King of Navarre. + + + + +CHAPTER LXIV. + +THE REGENCY. + + +The King, beginning to grow impatient, had summoned Monsieur de Nancey +to his room, and had just given him orders to go in search of Henry, +when the latter appeared. + +On seeing his brother-in-law at the door Charles uttered a cry of joy, +but Henry stood motionless, as startled as if he had come face to face +with a corpse. + +The two physicians who were at the bedside and the priest who had been +with Charles withdrew. + +Charles was not loved, and yet many were weeping in the antechambers. At +the death of kings, good or bad, there are always persons who lose +something and who fear they will not find it again under the successor. + +The mourning, the sobbing, the words of Catharine, the sinister and +majestic surroundings of the last moments of a king, the sight of the +King himself, suffering from a malady common enough afterwards, but +which, at that time, was new to science, produced on Henry's mind, which +was still youthful and consequently still susceptible, such a terrible +impression that in spite of his determination not to cause Charles fresh +anxiety as to his condition, he could not as we have said repress the +feeling of terror which came to his face on perceiving the dying man +dripping with blood. + +Charles smiled sadly. Nothing of those around them escapes the dying. + +"Come, Henriot," said he, extending his hand with a gentleness of voice +Henry had never before noticed in him. "Come in; I have been very +unhappy at not seeing you for so long. I have tormented you greatly +during my life, my poor friend, and sometimes, believe me, I have +reproached myself for it. Sometimes I have taken the hands of those who +tormented you, it is true, but a king cannot control circumstances, and +besides my mother Catharine, my brothers D'Anjou and D'Alençon, I had to +consider during my lifetime something else which was troublesome and +which ceases the moment I draw near to death--state policy." + +"Sire," murmured Henry, "I remember only the love I have always had for +my brother, the respect I have always felt for my King." + +"Yes, yes, you are right," said Charles, "and I am grateful to you for +saying this, Henriot, for truly you have suffered a great deal under my +reign without counting the fact that it was during my reign that your +poor mother died. But you must have seen that I was often driven? +Sometimes I have resisted, but oftener I have yielded from very fatigue. +But, as you said, let us not talk of the past. Now it is the present +which concerns me; it is the future which frightens me." + +And the poor King hid his livid face in his emaciated hands. + +After a moment's silence he shook his head as if to drive away all +gloomy thoughts, thus causing a shower of blood to fall about him. + +"We must save the state," he continued in a low tone, leaning towards +Henry. "We must prevent its falling into the hands of fanatics or +women." + +As we have just said, Charles uttered these words in a low tone, yet +Henry thought he heard behind the headboard something like a dull +exclamation of anger. Perhaps some opening made in the wall at the +instigation of Charles himself permitted Catharine to hear this final +conversation. + +"Of women?" said the King of Navarre to provoke an explanation. + +"Yes, Henry," said Charles, "my mother wishes the regency until my +brother returns from Poland. But mind what I tell you, he will not come +back." + +"Why not?" cried Henry, whose heart gave a joyful leap. + +"No, he cannot return," continued Charles, "because his subjects will +not let him leave." + +"But," said Henry, "do you not suppose, brother, that the queen mother +has already written to him?" + +"Yes, but Nancey stopped the courier at Château Thierry, and brought me +the letter, in which she said I was to die. I wrote to Varsovia myself, +my letter reached there, I am sure, and my brother will be watched. So, +in all probability, Henry, the throne will be vacant." + +A second sound louder than the first was heard in the alcove. + +"She is surely there," thought Henry, "and is listening." + +Charles heard nothing. + +"Now," he continued, "I am dying without male heir." Then he stopped. A +sweet thought seemed to light up his face, and, laying his hand on the +King of Navarre's shoulder: + +"Alas!" said he, "do you remember, Henriot, the poor little boy I showed +you one evening sleeping in his silken cradle, watched over by an angel? +Alas! Henriot, they will kill him!" + +"Oh, sire!" cried Henry, whose eyes filled with tears, "I swear to you +that I will watch over him all the days and nights of my life. Command +me, my King." + +"Thanks, Henriot, thanks!" said Charles, with a show of feeling unusual +in him, but which the situation had roused, "I accept your promise. Do +not make him a king,--fortunately he was not born for a throne,--but +make him happy. I have left him an independent fortune. Let him inherit +his mother's nobility, that of the heart. Perhaps it would be better for +him if he were to enter the church. He would inspire less fear. Oh! it +seems to me that I should die, if not happy, at least calm, if I had the +kisses of the child and the sweet face of its mother to console me." + +"Sire, could you not send for them?" + +"Ah, poor wretches! They would never be allowed to leave the Louvre! +Such is the condition of kings, Henriot. They can neither live nor die +as they please. But since you promise I am more resigned." + +Henry reflected. + +"Yes, no doubt, my King. I have promised, but can I keep my word?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"Shall I not be persecuted, and threatened like him, even more than him? +For I am a man, and he is only a child." + +"You are mistaken," said Charles; "after my death you shall be great and +powerful. Here is what will make you so." + +And the King drew a parchment from under the pillow. + +"See!" said he. + +Henry glanced over the document sealed with the royal seal. + +"The regency for me, sire!" said he, growing pale with joy. + +"Yes, for you, until the return of the Duc d'Anjou, and as in all +probability the duke will never return it is not the regency only but +the throne that this gives you." + +"The throne!" murmured Henry. + +"Yes," said Charles, "you alone are worthy of it; you alone are capable +of governing these debauched gallants, and these bold women who live by +blood and tears. My brother D'Alençon is a traitor, and would deceive +every one. Leave him in the prison in which I have placed him. My mother +will try to kill you, therefore banish her. My brother D'Anjou in three +or four months, perhaps in a year, will leave Varsovia and will come to +dispute the throne with you. Answer him by a bull from the pope. I have +already arranged that matter through my ambassador, the Duc de Nevers, +and you will receive the document before long." + +"Oh, my King!" + +"You have but one thing to fear, Henry,--civil war; but by remaining +converted you will avoid this, for the Huguenots are strong only when +you put yourself at their head, and Monsieur de Condé is nothing when +opposed to you. France is a country of plains, Henry, and consequently a +Catholic country. The King of France ought to be the king of the +Catholics and not the king of the Huguenots, for the King of France +ought to be the king of the majority. It is said I feel remorse for the +massacre of Saint Bartholomew; doubts, yes; remorse, no. It is said I +am bleeding the blood of those Huguenots from every pore. I know what is +flowing from me. It is arsenic and not blood." + +"What do you mean, sire?" + +"Nothing. If my death must be avenged, Henriot, it must be avenged by +God alone. Let us speak now of the future. I leave you a faithful +parliament and a trusty army. Lean on them and they will protect you +against your only enemies--my mother and the Duc d'Alençon." + +Just then the sound of arms and military commands were heard in the +vestibule. + +"I am dead!" murmured Henry. + +"You fear? You hesitate?" said Charles, anxiously. + +"I! sire," replied Henry; "no, I do not fear, nor do I hesitate. I +accept." + +Charles pressed Henry's hand. At that moment the nurse approached with a +drink she had been preparing in the adjoining room, not knowing that the +fate of France was being decided three feet from her. + +"Call my mother, nurse, and have Monsieur d'Alençon also summoned." + + + + +CHAPTER LXV. + +THE KING IS DEAD! LONG LIVE THE KING! + + +A few moments later Catharine and the Duc d'Alençon, pale with fright +and trembling with rage, entered Charles's room. As Henry had +conjectured, Catharine had overheard everything and in a few words had +told all to François. + +Henry was standing at the head of Charles's bed. + +The King spoke his wishes: + +"Madame," said he to his mother, "had I a son, you would be regent, or +in default of you it would be the King of Poland; or in default of him +it would be my brother François; but I have no son, and after me the +throne belongs to my brother the Duc d'Anjou, who is absent. As some day +he will claim this throne I do not wish him to find in his place a man +who by almost equal rights might dispute it with him, and who +consequently might expose the kingdom to civil war. This is why I do not +appoint you regent, madame, for you would have to choose between your +two sons, which would be painful for a mother. This is why I do not +choose my brother François, for he might say to his elder brother, 'You +had a throne, why did you leave it?' No, I have chosen as regent one who +can take the crown on trust, and who will keep it in his hand and not +on his head. Salute this regent, madame; salute him, brother; it is the +King of Navarre!" + +And with a gesture of supreme authority the King himself saluted Henry. + +Catharine and D'Alençon made a gesture between a nervous shudder and a +salute. + +"Here, my Lord Regent," said Charles to the King of Navarre, "here is +the parchment which, until the return of the King of Poland, gives you +the command of the armies, the keys of the treasury, and the royal power +and authority." + +Catharine devoured Henry with her eyes; François swayed so that he could +scarcely stand; but this weakness of the one and strength of the other, +instead of encouraging Henry, showed him the danger which threatened +him. + +Nevertheless he made a violent effort and overcoming his fears took the +parchment from the hands of the king, raised himself to his full height, +and gave Catharine and François a look which meant: + +"Take care! I am your master." + +"No," said she, "never; never shall my race bow to a foreign one; never +shall a Bourbon reign in France while a Valois remains!" + +"Mother," cried Charles IX., sitting up among the crimson sheets of his +bed, more frightful looking than ever, "take care, I am still King. Not +for long, I well know; but it does not take long to give an order; it +does not take long to punish murderers and poisoners." + +"Well! give the order, if you dare, and I will give mine! Come, +François, come!" + +And the queen left the room rapidly, followed by the Duc d'Alençon. + +"Nancey!" cried Charles; "Nancey! come here! I order you, Nancey, to +arrest my mother, and my brother, arrest"-- + +A stream of blood choked his utterance, just as the captain of the +guards opened the door, and, almost suffocated, the King fell back on +his bed. Nancey had heard only his name; the orders which followed, and +which had been uttered in a less audible tone, were lost in space. + +"Guard the door," said Henry, "and let no one enter." + +Nancey bowed and withdrew. + +Henry looked at the almost lifeless body, which already would have +seemed like that of a corpse had not a light breath stirred the fringe +of foam on the lips. + +Henry looked for several moments, then, speaking to himself: + +"The final moment has come!" said he; "shall I reign? shall I live?" + +Just then the tapestry of the alcove was raised, a pale face appeared +behind it, and a voice vibrated through the silence of death which +reigned throughout the royal chamber. + +"Live!" said this voice. + +"Réné!" cried Henry. + +"Yes, sire." + +"Your prediction was false, then; I shall not be king?" + +"You shall be, sire; but the time has not yet come." + +"How do you know? Speak, that I may know if I may believe you." + +"Listen." + +"Well?" + +"Stoop down." + +Henry leaned over Charles. Réné did the same. They were separated by the +width of the bed alone, and even this distance was lessened by their +positions. Between them, silent and motionless, lay the dying King. + +"Listen," said Réné; "placed here by the queen mother to ruin you, I +prefer to serve you, for I have faith in your horoscope. By serving you +I shall profit both in body and soul." + +"Did the queen mother command you to say this also?" asked Henry, full +of doubt and pain. + +"No," said Réné; "but I will tell you a secret." + +He leaned still further over. + +Henry did likewise, so that their heads almost touched. + +This interview between two men bending over the body of a dying king was +so sombre that the hair of the superstitious Florentine rose on end, and +Henry's face became covered with perspiration. + +"Listen," continued Réné, "I will tell you a secret known only to me. I +will reveal it to you if you will swear over this dying man to forgive +me for the death of your mother." + +"I have already promised you this," said Henry, with darkening brow. + +"You promised, but you did not swear," said Réné, drawing back. + +"I swear it," said Henry, raising his right hand over the head of the +King. + +"Well, sire," said the Florentine, hastily, "the King of Poland will +soon arrive!" + +"No," said Henry, "the messenger was stopped by King Charles." + +"King Charles intercepted only the one on the road to Château Thierry. +But the queen mother wisely sent couriers by three different routes." + +"Oh! I am lost!" exclaimed Henry. + +"A messenger arrived this morning from Varsovia. The king left after him +without any one's thinking of opposing him, for at Varsovia the illness +of the King of France was not yet known. This courier only preceded +Henry of Anjou by a few hours." + +"Oh! had I but eight days!" cried Henry. + +"Yes, but you have not eight hours. Did you hear the noise of arms?" + +"Yes." + +"They are making ready to kill you. They will seek you even here in the +apartment of the King." + +"The King is not yet dead." + +Réné looked closely at Charles. + +"He will be in ten minutes; you have ten minutes to live, therefore; +perhaps less." + +"What shall I do?" + +"Flee instantly, without delaying a minute, a second." + +"But how? If they are waiting in the antechamber they will kill me as I +go out." + +"Listen! I will risk everything for you. Never forget this." + +"Fear not." + +"Follow me by the secret corridor. I will lead you to the postern. Then, +to gain time, I will tell the queen mother that you are coming down; you +will be seen to have discovered this secret passage, and to have +profited by it to escape. Flee! Flee!" + +"Nurse!" murmured Charles, "nurse!" + +Henry took from the bed Charles's sword, of no further use to the dying +King, put the parchment which made him regent in his breast, kissed +Charles's brow for the last time, and turning away hurried through the +door, which closed behind him. + +"Nurse!" cried the King, in a stronger voice, "nurse!" + +The woman ran to him. + +"What is it, Charlot?" she asked. + +"Nurse," said the King, his eye dilated by the terrible fixity of death, +"something must have happened while I slept. I see a great light. I see +God, our Master, I see Jesus, and the Blessed Virgin Mary. They are +praying and interceding for me. The all-powerful Lord pardons me--calls +to me--My God! my God! In thy mercy, receive me! My God! forget that I +have been King, for I come to you without sceptre or crown. My God! +forget the crimes of the King, and remember only the suffering of the +man. My God, I come!" + +And Charles, who as he spoke had risen more and more as if to go to the +One who was calling him, after uttering these words heaved a sigh and +fell back still and cold in the arms of his nurse. + +Meantime, while the soldiers, commanded by Catharine, were beginning to +fill the main corridor in which they expected Henry to appear, the +latter, guided by Réné, passed along the secret passage and reached the +postern, sprang on the horse which was waiting for him, and galloped to +the place where he knew he would find De Mouy. + +Hearing the sound of the horse's hoofs, the galloping of which fell on +the hard pavement, some sentinels turned and cried: + +"He flees! He flees!" + +"Who?" cried the queen mother, stepping to a window. + +"The King of Navarre!" cried the sentinels. + +"Fire on him! Fire!" cried Catharine. + +The sentinels levelled their muskets, but Henry was already too far +away. + +"He flees!" cried the queen mother; "then he is vanquished!" + +"He flees!" murmured the Duc d'Alençon; "then I am king!" + +At that instant, while François and his mother were still before the +window, the drawbridge thundered under horses' hoofs and preceded by a +clanking of arms and great noise a young man galloped up, his hat in his +hand, shouting as he entered the court: "France!" He was followed by +four gentlemen, covered like himself with perspiration, dust, and foam. + +"My son!" exclaimed Catharine, extending both arms out of the window. + +"Mother!" replied the young man, springing from his steed. + +"My brother D'Anjou!" cried François, stepping back in amazement. + +"Am I too late?" asked Henry d'Anjou. + +"No, just in time, and God must have guided you, for you could not have +arrived at a better moment. Look and listen!" + +Monsieur de Nancey, captain of the guards, had come out upon the balcony +from the chamber of the King. + +All eyes were turned towards him. + +Breaking a wand in two, with arms extended, he took a piece in either +hand and cried three times: + +"King Charles IX. is dead! King Charles IX. is dead! King Charles IX. is +dead!" + +Then he dropped the pieces of the wand. + +"Long live King Henry III.!" shouted Catharine, making the sign of the +cross. "Long live King Henry III.!" + +All took up the cry except Duc François. + +"Ah, she has betrayed me!" murmured he, digging his nails into his +breast. + +"I have won," cried Catharine, "and that hateful Béarnais will not +reign!" + + + + +CHAPTER LXVI. + +EPILOGUE. + + +One year had elapsed since the death of Charles IX. and the accession of +his successor to the throne. + +King Henry III., happily reigning by the grace of God and his mother +Catharine, was attending a fine procession given in honor of Notre Dame +de Cléry. + +He had gone on foot with the queen, his wife, and all the court. + +King Henry III. could well afford this little pastime, for no serious +business occupied him for the moment. The King of Navarre was in +Navarre, where he had so long desired to be, and where he was said to be +very much taken up with a beautiful girl of the blood of the +Montmorencies whom he called La Fosseuse. Marguerite was with him, sad +and gloomy, finding in the beautiful mountains not distraction but a +softening of the two greatest griefs of life,--absence and death. + +Paris was very quiet and the queen mother, really regent since her dear +son Henry had been King, resided sometimes at the Louvre, sometimes at +the Hôtel de Soissons, which occupied the site to-day covered by the +Halle au Blé, of which nothing remains beyond the beautiful column which +is still standing. + +One evening when she was deeply engaged in studying the stars with Réné, +of whose little act of treason she was still ignorant, and who had been +reinstated in her favor after the false testimony he had so opportunely +given at the trial of Coconnas and La Mole, she was informed that a man +waited for her in her oratory with something to tell her of the greatest +importance. + +Hastily descending, the queen found the Sire de Maurevel. + +"_He_ is here!" cried the ancient captain of the guards, not giving +Catharine time to address him, according to royal etiquette. + +"What _he_?" demanded Catharine. + +"Who but the King of Navarre, madame!" + +"Here!" said Catharine, "here! He--Henry--And what has he come for, the +madman?" + +"If appearances are to be believed, he comes to see Madame de Sauve. +That is all. If probabilities are to be considered, he comes to conspire +against the King." + +"How do you know he is here?" + +"Yesterday I saw him enter a house, and an instant later Madame de Sauve +joined him there." + +"Are you sure it was he?" + +"I waited until he came out, that is, part of the night. At three +o'clock the two lovers appeared. The king led Madame de Sauve as far as +the gate of the Louvre, where, thanks to the porter, who no doubt is in +her pay, she was admitted without opposition, and the king returned, +humming a tune, and with a step as free as if he were among his own +mountains." + +"Where did he go then?" + +"To the Rue de l'Arbre Sec, Hôtel de la Belle Étoile, the same inn in +which the two sorcerers used to lodge whom your majesty had executed a +year ago." + +"Why did you not come and tell me this at once?" + +"Because I was not yet sure of my man." + +"And now?" + +"Now I am certain." + +"Did you see him?" + +"Yes. I hid in a wine merchant's opposite. I saw him enter the same +building as on the previous night. Then as Madame de Sauve was late he +imprudently put his face against the window pane on the first floor, and +I had no further doubt. Besides, a few minutes later Madame de Sauve +came and again joined him." + +"Do you think that like last night they will remain until three o'clock +in the morning?" + +"It is probable." + +"Where is the house?" + +"Near the Croix des Petits Champs, close to Saint Honoré." + +"Very good," said Catharine. "Does Monsieur de Sauve know your +handwriting?" + +"No." + +"Sit down, then, and write." + +Maurevel took a pen and obeyed. + +"I am ready, madame," said he. + +Catharine dictated: + +"_While the Baron de Sauve is on service at the Louvre the baroness is +with one of her friends, in a house near the Croix des Petits Champs, +close to Saint Honoré. The Baron de Sauve will know the house by a red +cross on the wall._" + +"Well?" said Maurevel. + +"Make a copy of the letter," said Catharine. + +Maurevel obeyed in silence. + +"Now," said the queen, "have one of these letters taken by a clever man +to the Baron de Sauve, and drop the other in the corridors of the +Louvre." + +"I do not understand," said Maurevel. + +Catharine shrugged her shoulders. + +"You do not understand that a husband who receives such a note will be +angry?" + +"But the King of Navarre never used to be angry, madame." + +"It is not always with a king as with a simple courtier. Besides, if De +Sauve is not angry you can be so for him." + +"I!" + +"Yes. You can take four men or six, if necessary, put on a mask, break +down the door, as if you had been sent by the baron, surprise the lovers +in the midst of their tête à tête, and strike your blow in the name of +the King. The next day the note dropped in the corridor of the Louvre, +and picked up by some kind friend who already will have circulated the +news, will prove that it was the husband who had avenged himself. Only +by chance, the gallant happened to be King of Navarre; but who would +have imagined that, when every one thought him at Pau." + +Maurevel looked at Catharine in admiration, bowed, and withdrew. + +As Maurevel left the Hôtel de Soissons Madame de Sauve entered the small +house near the Croix des Petits Champs. + +Henry was waiting for her at the half-open door. + +As soon as he saw her on the stairs, he said: + +"You have not been followed, have you?" + +"_Why, no,_" said Charlotte, "at least, not so far as I know." + +"I think I have been," said Henry, "not only to-night but last evening +as well." + +"Oh! my God!" said Charlotte, "you frighten me, sire! If this meeting +between you and one of your old friends should bring any harm to you I +should be inconsolable." + +"Do not worry, my love," said the Béarnais, "we have three swordsmen +watching in the darkness." + +"Three are very few, sire." + +"Three are enough when they are De Mouy, Saucourt, and Barthélemy." + +"Is De Mouy in Paris with you?" + +"Certainly." + +"He dared to return to the capital? Has he, then, like you, some poor +woman who is in love with him?" + +"No, but he has an enemy whose death he has sworn to have. Nothing but +hate, my dear, commits as many follies as love." + +"Thank you, sire." + +"Oh," said Henry, "I do not refer to our present follies. I mean those +of the past and the future. But do not let us discuss this; we have no +time to lose." + +"You still plan to leave Paris?" + +"To-night." + +"Are your affairs which brought you back to Paris finished?" + +"I came back only to see you." + +"Gascon!" + +"_Ventre saint gris!_ My love, that is true; but let us put aside such +thoughts. I have still two or three hours in which to be happy; then +farewell forever." + +"Ah! sire," said Madame de Sauve, "nothing is forever except my love." + +Henry had just said that he had no time for discussion; therefore he did +not discuss this point. He believed, or sceptic that he was, he +pretended to believe. + +As the King of Navarre had said, De Mouy and his two companions were +hidden near by. + +It was arranged that Henry should leave the small house at midnight +instead of at three o'clock; that, as on the previous night, they would +escort Madame de Sauve back to the Louvre, and from there they would go +to the Rue de la Cerisaie, where Maurevel lived. + +It was only during that day that De Mouy had been sure of his enemy's +whereabouts. The men had been on guard about an hour when they perceived +a man, followed at a few feet by five others, who drew near to the door +of the small house and tried several keys successively. De Mouy, +concealed within the shelter of a neighboring door, made one bound from +his hiding-place, and seized the man by the arm. + +"One moment," said he; "you cannot enter there." + +The man sprang back, and in doing so his hat fell off. + +"De Mouy de Saint Phale!" he cried. + +"Maurevel!" thundered the Huguenot, raising his sword. "I sought you, +and you have come to me. Thanks!" + +But his anger did not make him forget Henry, and turning to the window +he whistled in the manner of the Béarnais shepherds. + +"That will be enough," said he to Saucourt. "Now, then, murderer!" + +And he sprang towards Maurevel. + +The latter had had time to draw a pistol from his belt. + +"Ah! now," said the King's Slayer, aiming at the young man, "I think you +are a dead man!" + +He fired. De Mouy jumped to one side and the ball passed by without +touching him. + +"It is my turn now!" cried the young man. + +And he dealt Maurevel such a violent thrust with his sword that, +although the blade had to encounter his buff belt, the sharp point +pierced this obstacle and sank into the flesh. + +The assassin gave a terrible cry of pain; whereupon the soldiers with +him, thinking he was killed, fled in alarm down the Rue Saint Honoré. + +Maurevel was not brave. Seeing himself abandoned by his followers, and +having to face an adversary like De Mouy, he strove to escape, and ran +after the guard, shouting, "help! help!" + +De Mouy, Saucourt, and Barthélemy, carried away by their ardor, pursued +him. As they entered the Rue de Grenelle, which they had taken as a +short cut, a window opened and a man sprang out from the first floor, +landing on the ground lately wet by the rain. + +It was Henry. + +De Mouy's whistle had warned him of some danger and the pistol-shot had +showed him that the danger was great, and had drawn him to the aid of +his friends. + +Energetic and vigorous, he dashed after them, sword in hand. + +A cry guided him; it came from the Barrier des Sergents. It was +Maurevel, who being hard pressed by De Mouy was calling a second time +for help from his men who had run away. + +Maurevel had to turn or be run through the back; he turned, therefore, +and, meeting his enemy's steel, gave him back so skilful a thrust that +the scarf of the latter was cut through. But De Mouy at once lunged. The +sword again sank into the flesh it had already broken, and a second jet +of blood spurted from a second wound. + +"At him!" cried Henry, coming up. "Quick, quick, De Mouy!" + +De Mouy needed no encouragement. + +Again he charged at Maurevel; but the latter had not waited. + +Pressing his left hand over his wound, he again took to flight. + +"Kill him! Quick! Kill him!" cried the king, "here are the soldiers, and +the despair of cowards is of no moment to the brave." + +Maurevel, who was well nigh exhausted, whose every breath caused a +bloody perspiration, fell down; but almost immediately he rose again, +and turning on one knee presented the point of his sword to De Mouy. + +"Friends! Friends!" cried Maurevel. "There are only two. Fire at them! +Fire!" + +Saucourt and Barthélemy had gone in pursuit of the other soldiers, down +the Rue des Poulies, and the king and De Mouy were alone with the four +men. + +"Fire!" cried Maurevel again, while one of the soldiers levelled his +gun. + +"Yes, but first," said De Mouy, "die, traitor, murderer, assassin!" and +seizing Maurevel's sword with one hand, with the other he plunged his +own up to its hilt into the breast of his enemy, with such force that he +nailed him to the earth. + +"Take care! Take care!" cried Henry. + +De Mouy sprang back, leaving his sword in Maurevel's body, just as a +soldier was in the act of firing at him. + +Henry at once passed his sword through the body of the soldier, who gave +a cry and fell by the side of Maurevel. + +The two others took to flight. + +"Come, De Mouy, come!" cried Henry, "let us not lose an instant; if we +are recognized it will be all over with us." + +"Wait, sire. Do you suppose I want to leave my sword in the body of this +wretch?" and De Mouy approached Maurevel, who lay apparently without +sign of life. + +But just as he took hold of his sword, which was run through Maurevel's +body, the latter raised himself, and with the gun the soldier had +dropped fired directly at De Mouy's breast. + +The young man fell without a cry. He was killed outright. + +Henry rushed at Maurevel, but the latter had fallen again, and the +king's sword pierced only a dead body. + +It was necessary to flee. The noise had attracted a large number of +persons; the night watch might arrive at any moment. Henry looked around +to see if there was any face he knew, and gave a cry of delight on +recognizing La Hurière. + +As the scene had occurred at the foot of the Croix du Trahoir, that is, +opposite the Rue de l'Arbre Sec, our old friend, whose naturally gloomy +disposition had been still further saddened since the death of La Mole +and Coconnas, his two favorite lodgers, had left his furnaces and his +pans in the midst of his preparations for the King of Navarre's supper, +and had run to the fight. + +"My dear La Hurière, I commend De Mouy to your care, although I greatly +fear nothing can be done for him. Take him to your inn, and if he still +live, spare nothing. Here is my purse. As to the other, leave him in the +gutter, that he may die like a dog." + +"And yourself?" said La Hurière. + +"I have a farewell to make. I must hasten, but in ten minutes I shall be +with you. Have my horses ready." + +Henry immediately set out towards the Croix des Petits Champs; but as he +turned from the Rue de Grenelle he stopped in terror. + +A large crowd was before the door. + +"What is the matter?" asked Henry. "What is going on in the house?" + +"Oh!" answered the man addressed, "a terrible affair, monsieur. A +beautiful young woman has just been stabbed by her husband, to whom a +note had been given informing him that his wife was here with her +lover." + +"And the husband?" cried Henry. + +"Has escaped." + +"And the wife?" + +"She is in the house." + +"Dead?" + +"Not yet, but, thank God, there is scarcely any hope." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Henry, "I am accursed indeed!" and he rushed into the +house. + +The room was full of people standing around a bed on which lay poor +Charlotte, who had been stabbed twice. + +Her husband, who had hidden his jealousy for two years, had seized this +opportunity to avenge himself on her. + +"Charlotte! Charlotte!" cried Henry, pushing through the crowd and +falling on his knees before the bed. + +Charlotte opened her beautiful eyes, already veiled by death, and +uttered a cry which caused the blood to flow afresh from her two wounds. +Making an effort to rise, she said: + +"Oh! I well knew I could not die without seeing you again!" + +And as if she had waited only for that moment to return to Henry the +soul he had so loved, she pressed her lips to the King's forehead, again +whispered for a last time, "I love you!" and fell back dead. + +Henry could not remain longer without risking his own life. He drew his +dagger, cut a lock of the beautiful blonde hair which he had so often +loosened that he might admire its length, and went out sobbing, in the +midst of the tears of all present, who did not doubt but that they were +weeping for persons of high degree. + +"Friend! mistress!" cried Henry in despair--"all forsake me, all leave +me, all fail me at once!" + +"Yes, sire," said a man in a low tone, who had left the group in front +of the house, and who had followed Henry; "but you still have the +throne!" + +"Réné!" exclaimed Henry. + +"Yes, sire, Réné, who is watching over you. That scoundrel Maurevel +uttered your name as he died. It is known you are in Paris; the archers +are hunting for you. Flee! Flee!" + +"And you say that I shall be King, Réné? I, a fugitive?" + +"Look, sire," said the Florentine, pointing to a brilliant star, which +appeared from behind the folds of a black cloud, "it is not I who say +so, but the star!" + +Henry heaved a sigh, and disappeared in the darkness. + +END. + + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] + + "To uphold the faith + I am beautiful and trusty. + To the king's enemies + I am beautiful and cruel." + + + +[2] Bons chiens chassent de race. + +[3] + + From up above to down below Gaspard was flung, + And then from down below to high above was hung. + + + +[4] + + Here lies--the term the question begs, + For him you need a word that's stronger: + Here hangs the admiral by the legs-- + Because he has a head no longer! + + + +[5] + + Hawthorn brightly blossoming, + Thou dost fling + Verdant shadows down the river; + Thou art clad from top to roots + With long shoots + On which graceful leaflets quiver. + + Here the poetic nightingale + Ne'er doth fail-- + Having sung his love to capture-- + To repair to consecrate, + 'Neath thy verdure, hours of rapture. + + Therefore live, O Hawthorn fair, + Live fore'er! + May no thunder bolt dare smite thee! + May no axe or cruel blast + Overcast! + May the tooth of time.... + + + +[6] _Raffinés_ or _raffiné d'honneur_ was a term applied in the 16th +century to men sensitively punctilious and ready to draw their swords at +the slightest provocation.--N.H.D. + +[7] The original has _à l'aide d'une promenade_. + +[8] "Who are standing by my litter?" + +"Two pages and an outrider." + +"Good! They are barbarians! Tell me, La Mole, whom did you find in your +room?" + +"Duke François." + +"Doing what?" + +"I do not know." + +"With whom?" + +"With a stranger." + +[9] "I am alone; enter, my dear." + +[10] She was in the habit of carrying a large farthingale, containing +pockets, in each of which she put a gold box in which was the heart of +one of her dead lovers; for she was careful as they died to have their +hearts embalmed. This farthingale hung every night from a hook which was +secured by a padlock behind the headboard of her bed. (Tallemant Des +Réaux, _History of Marguerite of Valois_.) + +[11] + + Fair duchess, your dear eyes + Are emerald skies, + Half hid 'neath cloud-lids white, + Whence fiercer lightning flies, + Launched forth for our surprise, + Than could arise + From twenty Joves in furious might. + + +[12] Charles IX. had married Elizabeth of Austria, daughter of +Maximilian. + +[13] Had this natural child, no other than the famous Duc d'Angoulême, +who died in 1650, been legitimate, he would have supplanted Henry III., +Henry IV., Louis XIII., and Louis XIV. What would he have given in place +of them? The imagination gropes hopelessly about among the shadows of +such a question. + +[14] + + "Thus had perished one who was feared, + Sooner, too soon, would he have died, had it not been for prudence." + + + +[15] Your unlooked-for presence in this court would overwhelm my husband +and myself with joy, did it not bring with it a great misfortune, that +is, the loss not only of a brother, but also that of a friend. + +[16] We are heartbroken at being separated from you, when we should have +preferred going with you, but the same fate which decrees that you must +leave Paris without delay, retains us in this city. Go, therefore, dear +brother; go, dear friend; go without us. Our hopes and our good wishes +follow you. + +[17] He who beats on the wall will never get into the castle. + +[18] Textual. + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Marguerite de Valois, by Alexandre Dumas + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARGUERITE DE VALOIS *** + +***** This file should be named 33609-8.txt or 33609-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/3/6/0/33609/ + +Produced by Chuck Greif, Broward County Library and the +Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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