CHAPTER XXXIV.
MAN PROPOSES BUT GOD DISPOSES.
As the duke had said to the young men, the most profound silencereigned in the Louvre.
Marguerite and Madame de Nevers had departed for the Rue Tizon. Coconnasand La Mole had followed them. The King and Henry were knocking aboutthe city. The Duc d'Alencon was in his room vaguely and anxiouslywaiting for the events which the queen mother had predicted. Catharinehad gone to bed, and Madame de Sauve, seated by her, was reading someItalian stories which greatly amused the good queen. Catharine had notbeen in such good humor for a long time. Having done justice to acollation with her ladies in waiting, having consulted her physician andarranged the daily accounts of her household, she had ordered prayersfor the success of a certain enterprise, which she said was of greatimportance to the happiness of her children. Under certain circumstancesit was Catharine's habit--a habit, for that matter, whollyFlorentine--to have prayers and masses read the object of which wasknown only to God and herself.
Finally she had seen Rene, and had chosen several novelties from amongher rich collection of perfumed bags.
"Let me know," said Catharine, "if my daughter the Queen of Navarre isin 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 hereturned, accompanied by Gillonne.
"Well!" said the queen mother, "I asked for the mistress, not theservant."
"Madame," said Gillonne, "I thought I ought to come myself and tell yourmajesty that the Queen of Navarre has gone out with her friend theDuchesse de Nevers"--
"Gone out at this hour!" exclaimed Catharine, frowning; "where can shehave gone?"
"To a lecture on chemistry," replied Gillonne, "which is to be held inthe Hotel 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, "sothat probably her majesty will stay with her friend until to-morrowmorning."
"The Queen of Navarre is happy," murmured Catharine; "she has friendsand she is queen; she wears a crown, is called your majesty, yet has nosubjects. 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 Catharineinterrupted the story.
"Ah, by the way," said she, "have the guards dismissed from thecorridor."
This was the signal for which Maurevel was waiting. The order of thequeen mother was carried out, and Madame de Sauve went on with herstory. She had read for about a quarter of an hour without anyinterruption, when a prolonged and terrible scream reached the royalchamber 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 ashout 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 stoodup, his hand on his sword, but not daring to leave without permissionfrom 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, raisingherself 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 Swissfighting."
The calmness of the queen, contrasted with the terror on the faces ofall present, was so remarkable that, timid as she was, Madame de Sauvefixed 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 hisapartments."
"The fool!" murmured the queen, whose lips in spite of her self-controlwere beginning to move strangely, for she was muttering a prayer; "thefool 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 thepalace you will have the guilty ones severely punished to-morrow. Go onwith your reading, Carlotta." And Catharine sank back on her pillow witha calmness that greatly resembled weakness, for those present noticedgreat drops of perspiration rolling down her face.
Madame de Sauve obeyed this formal order, but her eyes and her voicewere mere machines. Her thoughts wandered to other things whichrepresented a terrible danger hanging over a loved head. Finally, afterstruggling on for several minutes, she became so oppressed between herfeelings and etiquette that her words became unintelligible, the bookfell from her hands, and she fainted.
Suddenly a louder noise was heard; a quick, heavy step fell on thecorridor, two pistol-shots shook the windows; and Catharine, astonishedat the interminable struggle, rose in terror, erect, pale, with dilatingeyes. As the captain of the guard was about to hurry out, she stoppedhim, saying:
"Let every one remain here. I myself will go and see what is thematter."
This is what was taking place, or rather what had taken place. Thatmorning De Mouy had received the key of Henry's room from the hands ofOrthon. In this key, which was piped, he had noticed a roll of paper. Hedrew it out with a pin. It was the password of the Louvre for thatnight.
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 whichhe had already more than once had occasion to test; over this hebuttoned a silk doublet, fastened on his sword, put his pistols in hisbelt, and over everything threw the red cloak of La Mole.
We have seen how, before going back to his rooms, Henry had thought bestto pay a visit to Marguerite, and how he arrived by the secret stairwayjust in time to run against La Mole in Marguerite's sleeping-room, andto appear in the dining-room before the King. It was at that very momentwhen, thanks to the password sent by Henry, and above all to the famousred 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. Hefound Orthon waiting for him in the antechamber.
"Sire de Mouy," said the mountaineer, "the king has gone out, but hetold me to admit you, and to tell you to wait for him. If he should belate in returning, he wants you, you know, to lie down on his bed."
De Mouy entered without asking for further explanation, for what Orthonhad just told him was only the repetition of what he had already heardthat 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 workto count and determine the stopping-places between Paris and Pau. Butthis was only the work of a quarter of an hour, and then De Mouy did notknow what to do.
He made two or three rounds of the room, rubbed his eyes, yawned, satdown, got up, and sat down again. Finally, taking advantage of Henry'sinvitation, and the familiarity which existed between princes and theirgentlemen, he placed his pistols and the lamp on a table, stretchedhimself out on the great bed with the sombre hangings which furnishedthe rear of the room, laid his sword by his side, and, sure of not beingsurprised since a servant was in the adjoini
ng room, he fell into apleasant sleep, the noise of which soon made the vast canopy ring withits echoes. De Mouy snored like a regular old soldier, and in this hecould have vied with the King of Navarre himself.
It was then that six men, their swords in their hands and their knivesat their belts, glided silently into the corridor which communicated bya small door with the apartments of Catharine and by a large one withthose of Henry.
One of the six men walked ahead of the others. Besides his bare swordand his dagger, which was as strong as a hunting-knife, he carried hisfaithful 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?" heasked 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 findout 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 laidon the handle of the door, "but, captain, these apartments are those ofthe King of Navarre."
"Who said they were not?" asked Maurevel.
The guards looked at one another in amazement, and the lieutenantstepped back.
"What!" exclaimed he, "arrest some one at this hour, in the Louvre, andin the apartments of the King of Navarre?"
"What should you say," said Maurevel, "were I to tell you that the oneyou are about to arrest is the King of Navarre himself?"
"I should say, captain, that it is serious business and that without anorder signed by King Charles IX."--
"Read this," said Maurevel.
And drawing from his doublet the order which Catharine had given him hehanded it to the lieutenant.
"Very well," replied the latter after he had read it. "I have nothingfurther 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 ofyou will remain at this door, two at the door of the sleeping-room, andtwo will go with me."
"Afterwards?" said the lieutenant.
"Pay close attention to this: we are ordered to prevent the prisonerfrom calling out, shouting, or resisting. Any infraction of this orderis to be punished by death."
"Well, well, he has full permission," said the lieutenant to the manchosen 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 waswritten above that he should not escape this."
"And here too," said Maurevel, taking Catharine's order from the handsof the lieutenant and returning it to his breast.
Maurevel inserted the key Catharine had given him into the lock, andleaving two men at the outer door, as had been agreed on, he entered theantechamber with the four others.
"Ah! ah!" said Maurevel, hearing the noisy breathing of the sleeper, thesound of which reached even as far as that, "it seems that we shall findwhat we are looking for."
Orthon, thinking it was his master returning, at once started up andfound 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'sSlayer, the faithful servant sprang back, and placing himself before thesecond 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 doormore than ever, "so you cannot enter."
"Excuses, lies!" said Maurevel. "Come, stand back!"
The Bearnais people are stubborn; this one growled like one of his ownmountain 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, snatchedhim from the door-sill to which he was clinging, and as he started toopen his mouth and cry out, Maurevel clapped a hand to his lips.
Orthon bit furiously at the assassin, who dropped his hand with a dullcry, and brought down the handle of his sword on the head of theservant. 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, andtwo 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 humanvoice, came from behind the curtains, which were violently thrown back,and a man appeared sitting there armed with a cuirass, his head coveredwith 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 thanhe felt his hair rise on end; he became frightfully pale, foam sprang tohis lips, and he stepped back as if he had come face to face with aghost. Suddenly the armed figure rose and stepped forward as Maureveldrew back, so that from the position of threatener, the latter nowbecame the one threatened, and _vice versa_.
"Ah, scoundrel!" cried De Mouy, in a dull voice, "so you have come tomurder me as you murdered my father!"
The two guards who had entered the room with Maurevel alone heard theseterrible words. As they were uttered a pistol was placed to Maurevel'sforehead. The latter sank to his knees just as De Mouy put his hand onthe trigger; the shot was fired and one of the guards who stood behindhim and whom he had unmasked by this movement dropped to the floor,struck to the heart. At the same instant Maurevel fired back, but theball glanced off De Mouy's cuirass.
Then, measuring the distance, De Mouy sprang forward and with the edgeof his broadsword split open the head of the second guard, and turningtowards Maurevel crossed swords with him.
The struggle was brief but terrible. At the fourth pass Maurevel feltthe cold steel in his throat. He uttered a stifled cry and fellbackwards, upsetting the lamp, which went out in the fall.
At once De Mouy, strong and agile as one of Homer's heroes, tookadvantage of the darkness and sprang, with head lowered, into theantechamber, knocked down one guard, pushed aside the other, and shotlike an arrow between those at the outer door. He escaped twopistol-shots, the balls of which grazed the wall of the corridor, andfrom 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 Monsieurd'Alencon's, the door of whose room he thought had just opened, or totry and escape from the Louvre. He determined on the latter course,continued on his way, slow at first, jumped ten steps at a time, andreaching 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 wordsand the sound of the pistol-shots, he ran on and disappeared in the Ruedu 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 runscompels 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 thehuman sword."
The captain remained where he was.
Taking a lamp, Catharine slipped her bare feet into
a pair of velvetslippers, left her room, and reaching the corridor, still full of smoke,advanced as impassible and as cold as a shadow towards the apartments ofthe 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 probablyfind the master." She entered the second door.
Then her foot ran against a corpse; she lowered her lamp; it was theguard 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 andwho was bleeding from a double wound in his throat. He was clinching hishands convulsively in his efforts to rise.
It was Maurevel.
Catharine shuddered. She saw the empty bed, she looked around the roomseeking in vain for the body she hoped to find among the three corpses.
Maurevel recognized Catharine. His eyes were horribly dilated and hemade 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 histhroat, a bloody foam covered his lips, and he shook his head in sign ofinability 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 deadand dying; blood flowed in every direction, and the silence of deathhovered over everything.
Once again she spoke to Maurevel, but failed to rouse him; he was notonly silent but motionless; a paper was in his doublet. It was the orderof arrest signed by the King. Catharine seized it and hid it in herbreast. Just then she heard a light step behind her, and turning, shesaw the Duc d'Alencon at the door. In spite of himself he had been drawnthither 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, Francois; you will know soon enough."
D'Alencon was not as ignorant of the affair as Catharine supposed.
At the sound of the first steps in the corridor he had listened. Seeingsome men enter the apartments of the King of Navarre, and by connectingthis with some words Catharine had uttered, he had guessed what wasabout to take place, and was rejoiced at having so dangerous an enemydestroyed by a hand stronger than his own. Before long the noises ofpistol-shots and the rapid steps of a man running had attracted hisattention, and he had seen disappearing in the light space caused by theopening of the door leading to the stairway the red cloak too well knownnot 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 tohim by Marguerite herself, and wishing to make sure that it was he whomhe had just seen, he ascended hurriedly to the chamber of the two youngmen. It was vacant. But in a corner he found the famous red cloakhanging against the wall. His suspicions were confirmed. It was not LaMole, but De Mouy. Pale and trembling lest the Huguenot should bediscovered, and would betray the secrets of the conspiracy, he rushed tothe gate of the Louvre. There he was told that the red cloak had escapedsafe and sound, shouting out as he passed that some one was beingmurdered in the Louvre by order of the King.
"He is mistaken," murmured D'Alencon; "it is by order of the queenmother."
Returning to the scene of combat, he found Catharine wandering like ahyena 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 thoughtswhich were passing through his mind.
In despair at the failure of this new attempt, Catharine called thecaptain of the guards, had the bodies removed, gave orders thatMaurevel, who was only wounded, be carried to his home, and told themnot to waken the King.
"Oh!" she murmured, as she returned to her rooms, her head sunk on herbosom, "he has again escaped. The hand of God is over this man. He willreign! he will reign!"
Entering her room, she passed her hand across her brow, and assumed anordinary 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, "yourmajesty says there is nothing the matter, and every one of yourmajesty's steps leaves a trace of blood on the carpet!"
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