CHAPTER XIV.
THE SECOND MARRIAGE NIGHT.
The queen mother cast a marvellously rapid glance around her. The velvetslippers at the foot of the bed, Marguerite's clothes scattered over thechairs, 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, anddrawing 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 thecharacteristic way of people who weigh each word or who deeplydissimulate, "it is time, my daughter, that you should know how ardentlyyour 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 wefulfilled one of those acts of policy frequently required by importantinterests of those who govern; but I must confess, my poor child, thatwe had no expectation that the indifference manifested by the King ofNavarre for one so young, so lovely, and so fascinating as yourselfwould be so obstinate."
Marguerite arose, and folding her robe de chambre around her, courtesiedwith ceremonious respect to her mother.
"I have heard to-night only," continued Catharine, "otherwise I shouldhave paid you an earlier visit, that your husband is far from showingyou those attentions you have a right to claim, not merely as abeautiful 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 maidsof honor who is scandalously smitten with him, that he scorns the loveof the woman graciously given to him, is an insult to which we poorpowerful ones of the earth cannot apply a remedy, and yet the meanestgentleman in our kingdom would avenge it by calling out his son-in-lawor having his son do so."
Marguerite dropped her head.
"For some time, my daughter," Catharine went on to say, "I have seen byyour reddened eyes, by your bitter sallies against La Sauve, that inspite of your efforts your heart must show external signs of itsbleeding wound."
Marguerite trembled: a slight movement had shaken the curtains; butfortunately Catharine did not notice it.
"This wound," said she with affectionate sweetness redoubled, "thiswound, my daughter, a mother's hand must cure. Those who with theintention of securing your happiness have brought about your marriage,and who in their anxiety about you notice that every night Henry ofNavarre goes to the wrong rooms; those who cannot allow a kinglet likehim to insult a woman of such beauty, of such high rank, and so worthy,by scorning your person and neglecting his chances of posterity; thosewho see that at the first favorable wind, this wild and insolent madcapwill turn against our family and expel you from his house--I say havenot they the right to secure your interests by entirely dividing themfrom his, so that your future may be better suited to yourself and yourrank?"
"And yet, madame," replied Marguerite, "in spite of these observationsso replete with maternal love, and filling me with joy and pride, I ambold enough to affirm to your majesty that the King of Navarre is myhusband."
Catharine started with rage, and drawing closer to Marguerite she said:
"He, your husband? Is it sufficient to make you husband and wife thatthe Church has pronounced its blessing upon you? And is the marriageconsecration only in the words of the priest? He, your husband? Ah, mydaughter! if you were Madame de Sauve you might give me this reply. Butwholly contrary of what we expected of him since you granted Henry ofNavarre the honor of calling you his wife, he has given all your rightsto another woman, and at this very instant even," said Catharine,raising her voice,--"this key opens the door of Madame de Sauve'sapartment--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 voluptuousgrace, her white dress fluttering loosely around her, while the largeopen sleeves displayed her bare and faultlessly modelled arm and trulyroyal 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 ofthe King of Navarre, who, as he lay upon the disordered bed, seemedburied in profound repose.
Pale, with haggard eyes, her body thrown back as if an abyss had openedat 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 mindshe combined Marguerite's smile with the picture of that pale and dewybrow, those eyes circled by dark-colored rings, and she bit her thinlips 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 curtainand 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'snaivete; but as if her keen glance had become blunted on Marguerite'scalmness, she exclaimed, "Nothing," and hastily left the room.
As soon as the sound of her departing footsteps had died away down thelong corridor, the bed-curtains opened a second time, and Henry, withsparkling eyes, trembling hand, and panting breath, came out and kneltat Marguerite's feet; he was dressed only in his short-clothes and hiscoat of mail, so that Marguerite, seeing him in such an odd rig, couldnot 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 upalong her arm.
"Sire," said she, gently retreating, "can you forget that a poor womanto whom you owe your life is mourning and suffering on your account?Madame de Sauve," added she, in a lower tone, "has forgotten herjealousy in sending you to me; and to that sacrifice she may probablyhave to add her life, for you know better than any one how terrible ismy mother's anger!"
Henry shuddered; and, rising, started to leave the room.
"Upon second thoughts," said Marguerite, with admirable coquetry, "Ihave thought it all over and I see no cause for alarm. The key was givento you without any directions, and it will be supposed that you grantedme 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 samewords she had a few minutes before used to her mother; "any one in theadjoining closet can hear you. And as I am not yet quite free, I willask you to speak in a lower tone."
"Oho!" said Henry, half smiling, half gloomily, "that's true! I wasforgetting that I am probably not the one destined to play the end ofthis interesting scene! This closet"--
"Let me beg of your majesty to enter there," said Marguerite; "for I amdesirous of having the honor of presenting to you a worthy gentleman,wounded during the massacre while making his way to the Louvre toapprise 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, fatedto reveal such continued surprises.
But La Mole was still more surprised at thus unexpectedly findinghimself in the presence of Henry of Navarre. The result was that theking cast an ironical glance on Marguerite, who bore it withoutflinching.
"Sire," said she, "I am in dread lest this gentleman may be murderedeven 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 y
oung man, "I am the Comte Lerac de la Mole, whomyour majesty was expecting; I was recommended to you by that poorMonsieur de Teligny, 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 soonas I arrived."
"Why did you not do so?"
"Sire, I hastened to the Louvre last evening, but your majesty was toomuch occupied to give me audience."
"True!" answered the king; "but I should think you might have sent theletter to me?"
"I had orders from Monsieur d'Auriac to give it to no one else but yourmajesty, since it contained, he said, information so important that hefeared to entrust it to any ordinary messenger."
"The contents are, indeed, of a serious nature," said the king, when hehad received and read the letter; "advising my instant withdrawal fromthe court of France, and retirement to Bearn. M. d'Auriac, although aCatholic, 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 windhere. _Ventre saint gris_! monsieur! why was not this letter given to methree days ago, instead of now?"
"Because, as I before assured your majesty, that using all the speed anddiligence in my power, it was wholly impossible to arrive beforeyesterday."
"That is very unfortunate, very unfortunate," murmured the king; "weshould then have been in security, either at Rochelle or in some broadplain surrounded by two or three thousand trusty horsemen."
"Sire, what is done is done," said Marguerite, in a low voice, "andinstead of wasting your time complaining over the past you must do thebest possible with the future."
"If you were in my place, madame," replied Henry, with his questioninglook, "you would still have hope, would you?"
"Certainly I should; I should consider myself as playing a game of threepoints, of which I had lost only the first."
"Ah, madame," whispered Henry, "if I dared but hope that you would gopartners 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 pastmay still be repaired."
"Alas! sire," said La Mole, "I wish your majesty every kind of goodfortune; but now the admiral is no more."
Over Henry's face passed that sly, peasant-like smile, which was notunderstood at court until after he became King of France.
"But, madame," said the king, attentively observing La Mole, "thisgentleman cannot remain here without causing you considerableinconvenience, 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 Ientirely agree with you!"
"It will be difficult."
"Then could not Monsieur de la Mole find accommodation in your majesty'sapartments?"
"Alas, madame! you speak as if I were still King of the Huguenots, andhad subjects to command. You are aware that I am half converted to theCatholic 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 shewas desirous of effecting; while La Mole, perceiving his protectress'scaution and not knowing where to set foot on the slippery ground of sucha dangerous court as that of France, remained perfectly silent.
"But what is this the governor says in his letter?" said Henry, againcasting his eyes over the missive he held in his hand. "He states thatyour mother was a Catholic, and from that circumstance originates theinterest 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 myrecollection on the subject is somewhat confused. Have the goodness toassist me, M. de la Mole. Did not your conversation refer to somethingof the nature the king appears to desire?"
"Alas! madame, what I did say was so coldly received by your majestythat I did not dare"--
"Simply because it in no way concerned me," answered Marguerite. "Butexplain yourself to the king--explain!"
"Well, what was the vow?" asked the king.
"Sire," said La Mole, "when pursued by assassins, myself unarmed, andalmost expiring from my two wounds, I fancied I beheld my mother'sspirit holding a cross in her hands and guiding me to the Louvre. Then Ivowed that if my life were preserved I would adopt the religion of mymother, who had been permitted to leave her grave to direct me to aplace of safety during that horrible night. Heaven conducted me here,sire. I find myself here under the protection of a princess of Franceand of the King of Navarre; my life was miraculously saved, therefore Imust fulfil my vow. I am ready to become a Catholic."
Henry frowned. Sceptic that he was, he could well understand a change ofreligion from motives of interest, but he distrusted abjuration throughfaith.
"The king does not want to take charge of my _protege_," thoughtMarguerite.
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 ridiculousposition. Marguerite's womanly tact came to his relief.
"Sire," said she, "we forget that the poor wounded gentleman has need ofrepose. 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 notleave Monsieur de la Mole to take his repose."
The young man fixed a supplicating look on Marguerite, and, in spite ofthe presence of the two majesties, sunk upon a chair, overcome withfatigue and pain.
Marguerite understood all the love in his look, all the despair in hisweakness.
"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 whilecoming hither to inform you of the admiral's death and Teligny's,--yourmajesty is bound, I repeat, to confer on him an honor for which he willbe 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, whileyou, sire, can sleep on this couch. With the permission of my augustspouse," added Marguerite, smiling, "I will summon Gillonne and returnto 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 andenemies subsequently found fault with him for possessing too much ofboth. He fully admitted that she who thus banished him from the nuptialbed was well justified in so doing by the indifference he had himselfmanifested toward her; and then, too, she had just repaid thisindifference by saving his life; he therefore allowed no self-love todictate his answer.
"Madame," said he, "if Monsieur de la Mole were able to come to myquarters I would give him my own bed."
"Yes," replied Marguerite, "but your quarters just at the present timewould not be safe for either of you, and prudence dictates that yourmajesty should remain here until morning."
Then without awaiting the king's reply she summoned Gillonne, and badeher prepare the necessary cushions for the king, and to arrange a bed atthe king's feet for La Mole, who appeared so happy and contented withthe 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 onthe bed.
"One thing is certain," said Marguerite to herself, "to-morrow Monsieurde 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 mybrothe
r the Duc d'Alencon 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 notasleep; she kept turning from side to side in her bed, and the noise shemade disturbed the young man's ideas and sleep.
"He is very young," murmured Marguerite in her wakeful mood, "he is verytimid; perhaps--but we must see--perhaps it will be ridiculous. Yet hehas handsome eyes--and a good figure, and he is very charming; but if heshould not turn out to be brave!--He ran away!--He is renouncing hisfaith! It is too bad--the dream began well. However, let things taketheir course and entrust them to that madcap Henriette's triple god."
And toward daybreak Marguerite fell asleep, murmuring:
"_Eros, Cupido, Amor._"
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