CHAPTER XI.
THE HAWTHORN OF THE CEMETERY OF THE INNOCENTS.
As soon as Marguerite reached her own apartments she tried in vain todivine the words which Catharine de Medicis had whispered to CharlesIX., and which had cut short the terrible council of life and deathwhich was taking place.
She spent a part of the morning in attending to La Mole, and the rest intrying to guess the enigma, which her mind could not discover.
The King of Navarre remained a prisoner in the Louvre, the persecutionof the Huguenots went on hotter than ever. The terrible night wasfollowed by a day of massacre still more horrible. No longer the bellsrang the tocsin, but _Te Deums_, and the echoes of these joyous notes,resounding amid fire and slaughter, were perhaps even more lugubrious insunlight than had been the last night's knell sounding in darkness. Thiswas not all. A strange thing had happened: a hawthorn-tree, which hadblossomed in the spring, and which, as usual, had lost its odorousflowers in the month of June, had blossomed again during the night, andthe Catholics, who saw a miracle in this event, spread the report of themiracle far and wide, thus making God their accomplice; and with crossand banners they marched in a procession to the Cemetery of theInnocents, where this hawthorn-tree was blooming.
This method of acquiescence which Heaven seemed to show in the massacresredoubled the ardor of the assassins, and while every street, everysquare, every alley-way of the city continued to present a scene ofdesolation, the Louvre had become the common tomb for all Protestantswho had been shut up there when the signal was given. The King ofNavarre, the Prince de Conde, and La Mole were the only survivors.
Assured as to La Mole, whose wounds, as she had declared the eveningbefore, were severe but not dangerous, Marguerite's mind was nowoccupied with one single idea: that was to save her husband's life,which was still threatened. No doubt the first sentiment which actuatedthe wife was one of generous pity for a man for whom, as the Bearnaishimself had said, she had sworn, if not love, at least alliance; butthere was, beside, another sentiment not so pure, which had penetratedthe queen's heart.
Marguerite was ambitious, and had foreseen almost the certainty ofroyalty in her marriage with Henry de Bourbon. Navarre, though beset onone 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 areal kingdom with the French Huguenots for subjects, if only Henry deBourbon should fulfil the hopes which the courage shown by him on theinfrequent occasions vouchsafed him of drawing his sword had aroused.
Marguerite, with her keen, lofty intellect, foresaw and reckoned on allthis. 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 atthe door of the secret corridor. She started, for only three personscame by that door,--the King, the queen mother, and the Duc d'Alencon.She opened the closet door, made a gesture of silence to Gillonne and LaMole, and then went to let her visitor in.
It was the Duc d'Alencon.
The young prince had not been seen since the night before. For a moment,Marguerite had conceived the idea of asking his intercession for theKing of Navarre, but a terrible idea restrained her. The marriage hadtaken place against his wishes. Francois detested Henry, and had evincedhis neutrality toward the Bearnais only because he was convinced thatHenry and his wife had remained strangers to each other. A mark ofinterest shown by Marguerite in her husband might thrust one of thethree threatening poniards into his heart instead of turning it aside.Marguerite, therefore, on perceiving the young prince, shuddered morethan she had shuddered at seeing the King or even the queen mother.Nevertheless no one could have told by his appearance that anythingunusual was taking place either in the city or at the Louvre. He wasdressed with his usual elegance. His clothes and linen breathed of thoseperfumes which Charles IX. despised, but of which the Duc d'Anjou and hemade continual use.
A practised eye like Marguerite's, however, could detect the fact thatin spite of his rather unusual pallor and in spite of a slight tremblingin his hands--delicate hands, as carefully treated as a lady's--he felta deep sense of joy in the bottom of his heart. His entrance was in nowise different from usual. He went to his sister to kiss her, butMarguerite, instead of offering him her cheek, as she would have donehad it been King Charles or the Duc d'Anjou, made a courtesy and allowedhim to kiss her forehead.
The Duc d'Alencon sighed and touched his bloodless lips to her brow.
Then taking a seat he began to tell his sister the sanguinary news ofthe night, the admiral's lingering and terrible death, Teligny'sinstantaneous death caused by a bullet. He took his time and emphasizedall the bloody details of that night, with that love of bloodcharacteristic of himself and his two brothers; Marguerite allowed himto tell his story.
"You did not come to tell me this only, brother?" she then asked.
The Duc d'Alencon 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 hisarmchair close up to his sister's, "that your marriage with the King ofNavarre was contracted against your wishes?"
"Yes, no doubt. I did not know the Prince of Bearn when he was proposedto me as a husband."
"And after you came to know him, did you not tell me that you felt nolove for him?"
"I told you so; it is true."
"Was it not your opinion that this marriage would make you unhappy?"
"My dear Francois," said Marguerite, "when a marriage is not the heightof 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 yourliberty."
"My liberty?" replied Marguerite, who was determined to compel theprince 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'Alencon tried to endure his sister's look, but his eyes soonavoided hers with embarrassment.
"Separated!" repeated Marguerite; "let us talk this over, brother, for Ishould like to understand all you mean, and how you propose to separateus."
"Why," murmured the duke, "Henry is a Huguenot."
"No doubt; but he made no secret of his religion, and that was knownwhen we were married."
"Yes; but since your marriage, sister," asked the duke, involuntarilyallowing a ray of joy to shine upon his face, "what has Henry beendoing?"
"Why, you know better than any one, Francois, for he has spent his daysalmost constantly in your society, either hunting or playing mall ortennis."
"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'Alencon, "his nights?"
"Well?" inquired Marguerite, feeling that it was requisite that sheshould 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 youngprince, 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-affectedair of melancholy; "was it to remind me that no one here loves me ortakes my part, neither those whom nature gave me as protectors nor theman whom the Church gave me as my husband?"
"You are unjust," said the Duc d'Alencon, drawing his armchair stillnearer to his sister, "I love you
and protect you!"
"Brother," said Marguerite, looking at him sharply, "have you anythingto 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 theintimacy that binds you to my husband, because you are abandoning thecause of the King of Navarre."
"The cause of the King of Navarre!" replied the Duc d'Alencon, wholly athis wits' end.
"Yes, certainly. Now look here, Francois; let us speak frankly. You havecome to an agreement a score of times; you cannot raise yourself or evenhold your own except by mutual help. This alliance"--
"Has now become impossible, sister," interrupted the Duc d'Alencon.
"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 seenthrough the whole thing. I entered into an alliance with the Huguenotsbecause I believed the Huguenots were in favor; but now they are killingthe Huguenots, and in another week there will not remain fifty in thewhole kingdom. I gave my hand to the King of Navarre because hewas--your husband; but now he is not your husband. What can you say tothat--you who are not only the loveliest woman in France, but have theclearest head in the kingdom?"
"Why, I have this to say," replied Marguerite, "I know our brotherCharles; I saw him yesterday in one of those fits of frenzy, every oneof which shortens his life ten years. I have to say that unfortunatelythese attacks are very frequent, and that thus, in all probability, ourbrother Charles has not very long to live; and, finally, I have to saythat the King of Poland has just died, and the question of electing aprince of the house of France in his stead is much discussed; and whencircumstances are thus, it is not the moment to abandon allies who, inthe moment of struggle, might support us with the strength of a nationand the power of a kingdom."
"And you!" exclaimed the duke, "do you not act much more treasonably tome in preferring a foreigner to your own brother?"
"Explain yourself, Francois! In what have I acted treasonably to you?"
"You yesterday begged the life of the King of Navarre from KingCharles."
"Well?" said Marguerite, with pretended innocence.
The duke rose hastily, paced round the chamber twice or thrice with abewildered 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 theDuc d'Alencon go away, without making any attempt to detain him; but hehad 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 ofassassination caused in her a terror she could not subdue.
"And you will not prevent his death?" she said; "you will not save yourbest 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 hasbecome 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 understandanything."
"I confess that I try in vain to read your thoughts."
"Sister, you are of as good a house as the Princesse de Porcian; DeGuise is no more immortal than the King of Navarre. Now, then,Marguerite, suppose three things, three possibilities: first, supposemonsieur is chosen King of Poland; the second, that you loved me as Ilove you; well, I am King of France, and you are--queen of theCatholics."
Marguerite hid her face in her hands, overwhelmed at the depth of theviews of this youth, whom no one at court thought possessed of evencommon understanding.
"But," she asked after a moment's silence, "I hope you are not jealousof Monsieur le Duc de Guise as you were of the King of Navarre!"
"What is done is done," said the Duc d'Alencon, in a muffled voice, "andif 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 fromsucceeding, 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'Alencon looked at Marguerite with the astonishment of a manwho takes his turn in failing to understand, and left the room, pressinghis icy hand on his forehead, which ached to bursting.
Marguerite remained alone and thoughtful; the situation was beginning totake a clear and definite shape before her eyes; the King had permittedSaint Bartholomew's, Queen Catharine and the Duc de Guise had put itinto execution. The Duc de Guise and the Duc d'Alencon were about tojoin partnership so as to get the greatest possible advantage. The deathof the King of Navarre would be a natural result of this greatcatastrophe. With the King of Navarre out of the way, his kingdom wouldbe seized upon, Marguerite would be left a throneless, impotent widowwith no other prospect before her than a nunnery, where she would noteven have the sad consolation of weeping for a consort who had neverbeen her husband.
She was still in the same position when Queen Catharine sent to ask ifshe would not like to go with her and the whole court on a piousvisitation 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 tolearn 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 shewould willingly go with their majesties.
Five minutes later a page came to ask if she was ready to go down, forthe procession was preparing to start.
Marguerite warned Gillonne by a gesture to look after the wounded manand so went downstairs.
The King, the queen mother, Tavannes, and the principal Catholics werealready mounted. Marguerite cast a rapid glance over the group, whichwas composed of about a score of persons; the King of Navarre was not ofthe party.
Madame de Sauve was there. Marguerite exchanged a glance with her, andwas convinced that her husband's mistress had something to tell her.
They rode down the Rue de l'Astruce and entered into the Rue SaintHonore. As the populace caught sight of the King, Queen Catharine, andthe principal Catholics they flocked together and followed theprocession 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 swordsand smoking arquebuses, which showed the part each had taken in theawful work just accomplished.
When they reached the top of the Rue des Prouvelles they met some menwho were dragging a headless carcass. It was the admiral's. The men weregoing to hang it by the feet at Montfaucon.
They entered the Cemetery des Saints Innocents by the gate facing theRue des Chaps, now known as the Rue des Dechargeurs; the clergy,notified in advance of the visit of the King and the queen mother, werewaiting for their majesties to make them speeches.
Madame de Sauve took advantage of a moment when Catharine was listeningto one of the discourses to approach the Queen of Navarre, and beg leaveto kiss her hand. Marguerite extended her arm toward her, and Madame deSauve, as she kissed the queen's hand, slipped a tiny roll of paper upher sleeve.
Madame de Sauve drew back quickly and with clever dissimulation; yetCatharine perceived it, and turned round just as the maid of honor waskissing Marguerite's hand.
The two women saw her glance, which penetrated them like a flash oflightning, but both remained unmoved; only Madame de Sauve lef
tMarguerite and resumed her place near Catharine.
When Catharine had finished replying to the address which had just beenmade 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, "soyou are on intimate terms with Madame de Sauve, are you?"
Marguerite smiled in turn, and gave to her lovely countenance thebitterest 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 ofthe King of Navarre than the King of Navarre is in love with me, but Iknow how to distinguish my friends from my enemies. I like those thatlike me, and detest those that hate me. Otherwise, madame, should I beyour daughter?"
Catharine smiled so as to make Marguerite understand that if she had hadany suspicion it had vanished.
Moreover, at that instant the arrival of other pilgrims attracted theattention of the august throng.
The Duc de Guise came with a troop of gentlemen all warm still fromrecent carnage. They escorted a richly decorated litter, which stoppedin front of the King.
"The Duchesse de Nevers!" cried Charles IX., "Ah! let that lovely robustCatholic come and receive our compliments. Why, they tell me, cousin,that from your own window you have been hunting Huguenots, and that youkilled one with a stone."
The Duchesse de Nevers blushed exceedingly red.
"Sire," she said in a low tone, and kneeling before the King, "on thecontrary, it was a wounded Catholic whom I had the good fortune torescue."
"Good--good, my cousin! there are two ways of serving me: one is byexterminating my enemies, the other is by rescuing my friends. One doeswhat one can, and I am certain that if you could have done more youwould!"
While this was going on, the populace, seeing the harmony existingbetween 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 queenmother of the lovely duchess.
Marguerite touched her friend on the elbow, and she, understanding thesign, replied:
"No, madame, unless your majesty desire it; for I have business in thecity 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 oldProtestant pastor's, and which have been taken to the Tower of SaintJacques la Boucherie," replied Marguerite.
"You would do much better to see the last Huguenots flung into the Seinefrom the top of the Pont des Meuniers," said Charles IX.; "that is theplace for all good Frenchmen."
"We will go, if it be your Majesty's desire," replied the Duchesse deNevers.
Catharine cast a look of distrust on the two young women. Marguerite, onthe 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 hershoulders, "begone, and take the Queen of Navarre with you."
Marguerite pretended to be still looking about her; then, turning to herfriend, she said in a whisper:
"Take me away quickly; I have something of the greatest importance tosay to you."
The duchess courtesied to the King and queen mother, and then, bowinglow 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 gentlemenreturned to the Louvre just as they had come. But during the route itwas observed that the queen mother kept talking to the King, pointingseveral times to Madame de Sauve, and at each time the King laughed--asCharles 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 tofear Catharine's searching eyes, she quickly drew from her sleeve Madamede 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 thetool of which they wish to make use to destroy us all. But we will seeif the Queen Margot, as my brother Charles calls me, is so easily to bemade 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.
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