CHAPTER VI.
THE DEBT PAID.
Now if the reader is curious to know why Monsieur de la Mole was notreceived by the King of Navarre, why Monsieur de Coconnas was notpermitted to see Monsieur de Guise, and lastly, why instead of eatingpheasants, partridges, and venison at the Louvre, both supped at thehotel of the _Belle Etoile_ on an omelet, he must kindly accompany us tothe 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'scloset. To this staircase which Marguerite was descending there was anoutlet. 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 ledto the apartments of the queen mother, Catharine de Medicis.
Catharine de Medicis was alone, seated near a table, with her elbowleaning on a prayer-book half open, and her head leaning on a hand stillremarkably beautiful,--by reason of the cosmetics with which she wassupplied by the Florentine Rene, who united the double duty of perfumerand poisoner to the queen mother.
The widow of Henry II. was clothed in mourning, which she had not thrownoff since her husband's death. At this period she was about fifty-two orfifty-three years of age, and owing to her stoutness and fair complexionshe preserved much of her early beauty.
Her rooms, like her dress, paraded her widowhood. Everything in thembore the impress of bereavement: hangings, walls, and furniture were allin mourning. Only above a kind of dais covering a throne, where at thatmoment lay sleeping the little greyhound presented to the queen motherby her son-in-law, Henry of Navarre, and bearing the mythological nameof Phoebe, was a painted rainbow surrounded by that Greek motto whichKing Francois I. had given her: "_Phos pherei e de kai a'ithzen_;" whichmay be translated:
"_He brings light and serenity._"
Suddenly, and at a moment when the queen mother appeared deeply plungedin some thought which brought a half-hesitating smile to hercarmen-painted lips, a man opened the door, raised the tapestry, andshowed 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 youmean, Henry?"
"I mean that the King is more than ever taken with the accursedHuguenots; and if we await his leave to execute the great enterprise, weshall wait a very long time, and perhaps forever."
"Tell me what has happened," said Catharine, still preserving thetranquillity of countenance habitual to her, yet to which, when occasionserved, she could give such different expressions.
"Why, just now, for the twentieth time, I asked his Majesty whether hewould still permit all those bravadoes which the gentlemen of thereformed 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 thepeople as the author of the attempted assassination of my second father,the admiral; defend yourself from the imputation as best you may. As tome, I will defend myself properly, if I am insulted;' and then he turnedaway 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 wellknow, 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 Turkeycarpets and velvet cushions were the King's favorite greyhounds. Onperches ranged along the wall were two or three valuable falcons and asmall shrike, with which Charles IX. amused himself in bringing down thelittle 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 dogsfragments of cakes cut into equal portions.
"My son," said the queen, with a trembling in her voice so cleverlyaffected 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 ofyour chateaux, no matter which, so that it be as distant as possiblefrom Paris."
"And wherefore, madame?" inquired Charles IX., fixing on his mother thatglassy 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 Protestantseven in your own Louvre, and I do not desire to be present at suchspectacles."
"But then, madame," replied Charles IX., with an expression full ofconviction, "an attempt has been made to kill their admiral. An infamousmurderer has already assassinated the brave M. de Mouy. _Mort de mavie_, mother, there must be justice in a kingdom!"
"Oh, be easy on that head, my son," said Catharine; "they will not failjustice; for if you should refuse it, they will still have it in theirown 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 inhis voice, "do you think so?"
"Oh, my son," replied Catharine, giving way entirely to the violence ofher thoughts, "do you not see that it is no longer a question ofFrancois de Guise's death or the admiral's, of the Protestant religionor the Catholic religion, but simply of the substitution of Antoine deBourbon's son for the son of Henry the Second?"
"Come, come, mother, you are falling again into your usualexaggeration," said the King.
"What, then, have you in mind, my son?"
"To wait, mother,--to wait. All human wisdom is in this single word. Thegreatest, 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 toreturn to her apartment.
Charles IX. stopped her.
"Well, then, really, what is best to be done, mother?" he asked, "forabove 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'sshrike, "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 onyou?"
"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 indicatedcourage easily aroused even to ferocity; "but I should not amuse myselfkilling my subjects; for, after all, the Huguenots are my subjects, aswell as the Catholics."
"Then, sire," said Catharine, "your subjects, the Huguenots, will dolike the wild boar who escapes the spear thrust into his throat: theywill bring down the throne."
"Nonsense! Do you really think so, madame?" said Charles IX., with anair which denoted that he did not place great faith in his mother'spredictions.
"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 askfor that is not just? He has requested that his father's murderer andthe admiral's assassin be put to death. Did we not pun
ish M. deMontgommery for the death of my father and your husband, although thatdeath was a simple accident?"
"Very well, sire," said Catharine, piqued, "let us say no more. Yourmajesty is under the protection of that God who gives you strength,wisdom, and confidence. But I, a poor woman whom God abandons, no doubton 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, toremain in her place, and try a last effort.
Charles IX. followed his mother with his eye, but this time did notrecall 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 theycome 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 thefirst time. "Yes, some dozens. A tolerable waste of life! Ah! if any onecame to me and said; 'Sire, you shall be rid of all your enemies atonce, and to-morrow there shall not remain one to reproach you with thedeath of the others,' why, then, I do not say"--
"Well, sire?"
"Tavannes," said the King, "you will tire Margot; put her back on herperch. It is no reason, because she bears the name of my sister, theQueen of Navarre, that every one should caress her."
Tavannes put the hawk on her perch, and amused himself by curling anduncurling a greyhound's ears.
"But, sire, if any one should say to your Majesty: 'Sire, your Majestyshall 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 theinterposition of Saint Bartholomew."
"A worthy saint," replied the King, "who allowed himself to be skinnedalive!"
"So much the better; the more he suffered, the more he ought to havefelt a desire for vengeance on his executioners."
"And will you, my cousin," said the King, "will you, with your prettylittle gold-hilted sword, slay ten thousand Huguenots between now andto-morrow? Ha! ha! ha! _mort de ma vie!_ you are very amusing, Monsieurde Guise!"
And the King burst into a loud laugh, but a laugh so forced that theroom echoed with its sinister sound.
"Sire, one word--and one only," continued the duke, shuddering in spiteof himself at the sound of that laugh, which had nothing human init,--"one signal, and all is ready. I have the Swiss and eleven hundredgentlemen; I have the light horse and the citizens; your Majesty hasyour guards, your friends, the Catholic nobility. We are twenty to one."
"Well, then, cousin, since you are so strong, why the devil do you cometo fill my ears with all this? Act without me--act"--
And the King turned again to his dogs.
Then the portiere was raised, and Catharine reappeared.
"All goes well," she said to the duke; "urge him, and he will yield."
And the portiere fell on Catharine, without Charles IX. seeing, or atleast appearing to see her.
"But yet," continued De Guise, "I must know if, in acting as I desire, Ishall 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, thePrince de Conde--in my Louvre--ah!"
Then he added, in a voice scarcely audible,--"Without the walls, I donot say"--
"Sire," cried the duke, "they are going out this evening to join in arevel with your brother, the Duc d'Alencon."
"Tavannes," said the King, with well-affected impatience, "do not yousee that you are teasing the dog? Here, Acteon,--come!"
And Charles IX. went out without waiting to hear more, and Tavannes andthe Duc de Guise were left almost as uncertain as before.
* * * * *
Meantime another scene was passing in Catharine's apartment. After shehad given the Duc de Guise her counsel to remain firm, she returned toher rooms, where she found assembled the persons who were usuallypresent when she went to bed.
Her face was now as full of joy as it had been downcast when she setout. With her most agreeable manner she dismissed her women one by oneand 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 gloomythought withheld the words ready to escape her lips.
Suddenly the portiere was raised, and Henry of Navarre appeared.
The little greyhound, which was asleep on the throne, leaped up andbounded towards him.
"You here, my son!" said Catharine, starting. "Do you sup in the Louvreto-night?"
"No, madame," replied Henry, "we are going into the city to-night, withMessieurs d'Alencon and De Conde. I almost expected to find them herepaying their court to you."
Catharine smiled.
"Go, gentlemen, go--men are so fortunate in being able to go about asthey 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, bowingto 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 newsof him."
"Then, madame, I will go, since you approve of this step."
"Oh," said Catharine, "my approval is nothing--But who goes there? Sendhim away, send him away."
Henry started to go to the door to carry out Catharine's order; but atthe same instant the portiere was raised and Madame de Sauve showed herblond head.
"Madame," said she, "it is Rene, the perfumer, whom your majesty sentfor."
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 facebetrayed his emotion, and he went and leaned against the bar of thewindow.
The little greyhound growled.
At the same moment two persons entered--the one announced, and the otherhaving no need to be so.
The first was Rene, the perfumer, who approached Catharine with all theservile obsequiousness of Florentine servants. He held in his hand abox, which he opened, and all the compartments were seen filled withpowders and flasks.
The second was Madame de Lorraine, Marguerite's eldest sister. Sheentered 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, whowas examining, with Madame de Sauve, the contents of the box brought byRene, seated herself beside Marguerite, near whom the King of Navarrewas standing, with his hand on his brow, like one who tries to rousehimself from some sudden shock.
At this instant Catharine turned round.
"Daughter," she said to Marguerite, "you may retire to your room. Myson, 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 Ducde Guise, who now saves you, as you saved him, do not go from here--donot 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 theDuchesse de Nevers."
"And wher
e 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 movementsof the queen, Claude, or Marguerite,--"madame, will you allow me thehonor of kissing your hand?"
Marguerite extended her trembling hand.
"What did she say to you?" whispered Henry, as he stooped to imprint akiss 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 oncedetected a complete plot.
"This is not all," added Marguerite; "here is a letter, which a countrygentleman brought."
"Monsieur de la Mole?"
"Yes."
"Thank you," he said, taking the letter and putting it under hisdoublet; and, passing in front of his bewildered wife, he placed hishand on the shoulder of the Florentine.
"Well, Maitre Rene!" he said, "and how go commercial affairs?"
"Pretty well, monseigneur,--pretty well," replied the poisoner, with hisperfidious smile.
"I should think so," said Henry, "with men who, like you, supply all thecrowned heads at home and abroad."
"Except the King of Navarre," replied the Florentine, impudently.
"_Ventre saint gris_, Maitre Rene," replied the king, "you are right;and yet my poor mother, who also bought of you, recommended you to mewith her dying breath. Come to me to-morrow, Maitre Rene, or day afterto-morrow, and bring your best perfumes."
"That would not be a bad notion," said Catharine, smiling; "for it issaid"--
"That I need some perfumery," interrupted Henry, laughing; "who told youthat, 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 effortscould 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 prescribesaromatic preparations."
And again, and with still more force than before, she pressed her eldestdaughter's arm; then, turning toward the youngest:
"There, Margot," she said, "did you not hear me request you to retire toyour room? If that is not sufficient, I command you."
"Excuse me, madame," replied Marguerite, trembling and pale; "I wishyour majesty good-night."
"I hope your wishes may be heard. Good-night--good-night!"
Marguerite withdrew, staggering, and in vain seeking to meet herhusband's eyes, but he did not even turn toward her.
There was a moment's silence, during which Catharine remained with hereyes fastened on the Duchess of Lorraine, who, without speaking, lookedat her mother with clasped hands.
Henry's back was still turned, but he was watching the scene in amirror, while seeming to curl his mustache with a pomade which Rene hadjust 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 thatthe Duc d'Alencon and the Prince de Conde are waiting for me! These areadmirable perfumes; they quite overpower one, and destroy one's memory.Good evening, madame."
"Good evening! To-morrow you will perhaps bring me tidings of theadmiral."
"Without fail--Well, Phoebe, what is it?"
"Phoebe!" said the queen mother, impatiently.
"Call her, madame," said the Bearnais, "for she will not allow me to goout."
The queen mother rose, took the little greyhound by the collar, and heldher while Henry left the apartment, with his features as calm andsmiling as if he did not feel in his heart that his life was in imminentperil.
Behind him the little dog, set free by Catharine de Medicis, rushed totry and overtake him, but the door was closed, and Phoebe could onlyput her long nose under the tapestry and give a long and mournful howl.
"Now, Charlotte," said Catharine to Madame de Sauve, "go and findMessieurs de Guise and Tavannes, who are in my oratory, and return withthem; then remain with the Duchess of Lorraine, who has the vapors."
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