CHAPTER XLVIII.
TWO HEADS FOR ONE CROWN.
"Ask Monsieur d'Alencon to come to me," said Charles as he dismissed hismother.
Monsieur de Nancey, in accordance with the remark of the King thathenceforth he was to obey him alone, hastened to the duke's apartmentsand delivered word for word the order he had just received.
The Duc d'Alencon gave a start. He had always feared Charles, and nowmore 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'Alencon caught from the glassy eye of the Kingone of those bitter looks of hatred which he knew so well.
"Your Majesty has sent for me," said he. "Here I am; what does yourMajesty desire?"
"I desire to tell you, my good brother, that as a reward for the greatfriendship you bear me I have decided to-day to do for you the thing youmost 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 Francois, "I swear to you that I desire nothing but thecontinued good health of the King."
"In that case you will be glad to know, D'Alencon, that theindisposition I experienced at the time the Poles arrived has passed by.Thanks to Henriot, I escaped a furious wild boar, which would haveripped me open, and I am so well that I do not envy the most healthy manin my kingdom. Without being an unkind brother you can, therefore, askfor something besides the continuation of my health, which isexcellent."
"I want nothing, sire."
"Yes, yes, Francois," said Charles, impatiently, "you desire the crownof Navarre, since you have had an understanding with Henriot and DeMouy,--with the first, that he would abdicate; with the second, that hewould give it to you. Well! Henriot renounces it! De Mouy has told me ofyour wish, and this crown for which you are ambitious"--
"Well?" asked D'Alencon in a trembling voice.
"Well, the devil! it is yours."
D'Alencon turned frightfully pale; then suddenly the blood rushed fromhis heart, which almost burst, flowed to his face, and his cheeks becamesuffused with a burning flush. The favor the King granted him at thatmoment threw him into despair.
"But, sire," said he, trembling with emotion and trying in vain torecover his self-possession, "I never desired and certainly never askedfor 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, Francois? Plague it, you are hard to please!What better do you hope for?"
D'Alencon bit his lips in despair.
"Faith!" continued Charles, affecting kindness, "I did not think youwere so popular, Francois, especially with the Huguenots. But they havesought 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--mybrother who loves me and who is incapable of betraying me--at the headof a party which for thirty years has made war against us. This willquell everything as if by enchantment, to say nothing of the fact thatwe shall all be kings in the family. There will be no one except poorHenriot who will be nothing but my friend. But he is not ambitious andhe shall take this title which no one else claims."
"Oh, sire! you are mistaken. I claim this title, and who has a betterright to it than I? Henry is only your brother by marriage. I am yourbrother by blood, and more than this, my love--Sire, I beg you, keep menear you."
"No, no, Francois," replied Charles; "that would be to yourunhappiness."
"How so?"
"For many reasons."
"But, sire, shall you ever find as faithful a companion as I am? From mychildhood 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 willhave there, Francois! How I envy you! Do you know that in those devilishmountains they hunt the bear as here we do the wild boar? You will sendus all such magnificent skins! They hunt there with a dagger, you know;they wait for the animal, excite him, irritate him; he advances towardsthe 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 theboar at our last hunt. It is dangerous sport, but you are brave,Francois, and the danger will be a real pleasure for you."
"Ah! your Majesty increases my grief, for I shall hunt with you nomore."
"By Heaven! so much the better!" said the King. "It helps neither of usto hunt together."
"What does your Majesty mean?"
"That hunting with me causes you such pleasure and rouses in you suchemotion that you who are the personification of skill, you who with anymusket can bring down a magpie a hundred feet away, the last time wehunted together failed at twenty paces to hit a wild boar; but with yourweapon, a weapon, too, with which you are familiar, you broke the leg ofmy best horse. The devil, Francois, that makes one reflect, you know!"
"Oh! sire, pardon me, it was from emotion," said D'Alencon, who hadbecome livid.
"Yes," replied Charles, "I can well imagine what the emotion was; and itis on account of this emotion that I realize all that it means when Isay to you: 'Believe me, Francois, when one has such emotions it is bestfor 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 tofear that in another hunt you might be seized with another emotion.There is nothing like emotion for causing the hand to rise, and youmight kill the rider instead of the horse, the king instead of thebeast. Plague it, a bullet aimed too high or too low changes an entiregovernment. We have an example of this in our own family. WhenMontgommery killed our father, Henry II., by accident--emotion,perhaps--the blow placed our brother, Francois II., on the throne andsent our father Henry to Saint Denis. So little is necessary forProvidence to effect much!"
The duke felt the perspiration running down his face at this attack, asformidable as it was unforeseen.
It would have been impossible for the King to show more clearly that hehad surmised all. Veiling his anger under a jesting manner, Charles wasperhaps more terrible than as if he had let himself pour forth the lavaof hate which was consuming his heart; his vengeance seemed inproportion to his rancor. As the one grew sharper, the other increased,and for the first time D'Alencon felt remorse, or rather regret forhaving meditated a crime which had not succeeded. He had sustained thestruggle 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 beingsof a tender nature ploughs the furrow from which spring tears.
But D'Alencon was one of those who weep only from anger. Charles fixedon him his vulture gaze, watching the feelings which succeeded oneanother across the face of the young man, and all those sensationsappeared to him as accurately, thanks to the deep study he had made ofhis 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 voicestamped with the firmness of hatred:
"Brother," said he, "we have declared to you our resolution; it isimmutable. You will go."
D'Alencon gave a start, but Charles did not appear to notice it, andcontinued:
"I wish Navarre to be proud of having for king a brother of the King ofFrance. Gold, power, honor, all that belongs to your birth you shallhave, as your brother Henry had, and like him," he added, smiling, "youwill bless me from afar. But no matter, blessings know no distance."
"Sire"--
"Accept my decision, or rather, resign yourself. Once king, we shallfind a wife for you worthy of a s
on of France, and she, perhaps, maybring you another throne."
"But," said the Duc d'Alencon, "your Majesty forgets your good friendHenry."
"Henry! but I told you that he did not want the throne of Navarre! Itold you he had abdicated in favor of you! Henry is a jovial fellow, andnot a pale-face like you. He likes to laugh and amuse himself at hisease, and not mope, as we who wear crowns are condemned to do."
D'Alencon heaved a sigh.
"Your Majesty orders me then to occupy myself"--
"No, not at all. Do not disturb yourself at all; I will arrangeeverything; rely on me, as on a good brother. And now that everything issettled, go. However, not a word of our conversation to your friends. Iwill take measures to give publicity to the affair very soon. Go now,Francois."
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 hadjust 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 inCatharine, but merely an ally. He began therefore by dissimulation, forin order to make good alliances it is necessary for each party to besomewhat deceived.
He met Catharine with a face on which there remained only a slight traceof 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 toyou; for it was really you who advised Charles to make me the present ofa 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 betweenprinces. Court friendships mean very little, Francois."
"Mother, you must remember we are not only friends, but almostbrothers."
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 intimacybegan. Moreover, we never expected to be kings; that is why we lovedeach 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 browCatharine 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'Alencon, growing pale, "what are you saying?"
"What a good mother ought to say to her son, and what you have thoughtof more than once, Francois."
"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 youcall him, is, under his apparent frankness, a very clever and wilyperson, who keeps his secrets better than you keep yours, Francois. Forinstance, did he ever tell you that De Mouy was his man of business?"
As she spoke, Catharine turned a glance upon Francois as though it werea dagger aimed at his very soul.
But the latter had but one virtue, or rather vice,--the art ofdissimulation; and he bore her look unflinchingly.
"De Mouy!" said he in surprise, as if it were the first time he hadheard the name mentioned in that connection.
"Yes, the Huguenot De Mouy de Saint Phale; the one who nearly killedMonsieur de Maurevel, and who, secretly and in various disguises, isrunning all over France and the capital, intriguing and raising an armyto support your brother Henry against your family."
Catharine, ignorant that on this point her son Francois knew as much ifnot more than she, rose at these words and started majestically to leavethe room, but Francois detained her.
"Mother," said he, "another word, if you please. Since you deign toinitiate me into your politics, tell me how, with his feeble resources,and being so slightly known, Henry could succeed in carrying on a warserious enough to disturb my family?"
"Child," said the queen, smiling, "he is supported by perhaps more thanthirty thousand men; he has but to say the word and these thirtythousand men will appear as suddenly as if they sprang from the ground;and these thirty thousand men are Huguenots, remember, that is, thebravest soldiers in the world, and then he has a protector whom youneither could nor would conciliate."
"Who is that?"
"He has the King, the King, who loves him and who urges him on; theKing, who from jealousy of your brother of Poland, and from spiteagainst you, is looking about for a successor. But, blind man that youare if you do not see it, he seeks somewhere else besides in his ownfamily."
"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 hisbrother-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 beatenhim."
"Yes, yes," murmured Francois, "I have already noticed that Henry isvery 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 hisignorance of hawking he has begun to study it; and yesterday, yes, itwas 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 suddenlycome 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 fromyou."
"And what will come of this?"
"Have you confidence in me, D'Alencon?"
"Yes, mother."
"Will you obey me blindly so far as Henry is concerned? For whatever youmay have said you do not love him."
D'Alencon 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 toyou, you shall take it to Henry, and"--
"And?"
"Leave the rest to Providence or to chance."
Francois knew his mother well enough to realize that she was not in thehabit of leaving to Providence or to chance the care of friendships orhatreds. But he said nothing, and bowing like a man who accepts thecommission with which he is charged, he returned to his own apartments.
"What does she mean?" thought the young man as he mounted the stairs. "Icannot see. But what I do understand in all this is that she acts likeour common enemy. Well, let her go ahead."
Meantime Marguerite, through La Mole, had received a letter from De Mouyto the King of Navarre. As in politics the two illustrious allies had nosecrets, she opened the letter and read it.
The letter must have interested her, for, taking advantage of thedarkness which was beginning to overshadow the walls of the Louvre,Marguerite at once hurried along the secret corridor, ascended thewinding stairway, and, having looked carefully about on all sides,glided on like a shadow and disappeared within the antechamber of theKing of Navarre.
This room had been unguarded since the disappearance of Orthon.
This circumstance, of which we have not spoken since the reader learnedof the t
ragic fate of poor Orthon, had greatly troubled Henry. He hadspoken of it to Madame de Sauve and to his wife, but neither of themknew any more about it than he did. Madame de Sauve had given him someinformation from which it was perfectly clear to Henry's mind that thepoor boy had been a victim of some machination of the queen mother, andthat this was why he himself had been interrupted with De Mouy in theinn of the _Belle Etoile_. Any other than Henry would have kept silence,fearing to speak, but Henry calculated everything. He realized that hissilence would betray him. One does not as a rule lose one's servitor andconfidant thus, without making inquiries about him and looking for him.So Henry asked and searched even in the presence of the King and thequeen mother, and of every one, from the sentinel who walked before thegate of the Louvre to the captain of the guards, keeping watch in theantechamber of the King; but all inquiry and search was in vain, andHenry seemed so affected by the circumstance and so attached to the poorabsent servitor that he said he would not put another in his place untilhe was perfectly sure that Orthon had disappeared forever.
So the antechamber, as we have said, was empty when Marguerite reachedit.
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 openletter.
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 Francois 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 thesame words that Caesar 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 thepath that is indicated, and make a beautiful throne for me," said thedaughter of Henry II.
An imperceptible smile rose to the thin lips of the Bearnais. He kissedMarguerite's hand, and went out to explore the corridor, whistling therefrain 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 hissleeping-room the Duc d'Alencon opened that of his antechamber. Henrymotioned to Marguerite, and then, aloud, said:
"Ah! is it you, brother? Welcome."
At the sign from her husband the queen had understood everything, andstepped hurriedly into a dressing-closet, in front of the door of whichhung a thick tapestry. The Duc d'Alencon entered with a timorous stepand 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 haveconspired to obtain it."
"Ah, the stupid!" cried Henry, "so that now you are compromised, my poorbrother! How is it, then, that you have not been arrested?"
"I do not know. The King joked with me by pretending to offer me thethrone 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 Bearnais. "Stand firm,for our lives depend on that."
"Yes," said Francois, "the position is unsafe, I know. That is why Icame to ask your advice, brother; what do you think I ought to do--runor 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 Francois.
Notwithstanding the fact that he was almost thorough master of himself,Henry could not prevent a movement of joy from escaping him, and slightas it was, Francois saw it.
"Remain, then," said Henry.
"But you?"
"Why!" replied Henry, "if you remain, I have no motive for leaving. Iwas going only to follow you from devotion, in order not to be separatedfrom my brother."
"So," said D'Alencon, "there is an end to all our plans; you give upwithout a struggle at the first stroke of ill luck?"
"I do not look upon it as a stroke of ill luck to remain here," saidHenry. "Thanks to my careless disposition, I am contented everywhere."
"Well, then," said D'Alencon, "we need say no more about it, only incase you decide anything different let me know."
"By Heaven! I shall not fail to do that, you may be sure," repliedHenry. "Was it not agreed that we were to have no secrets from eachother?"
D'Alencon said no more, but withdrew, pondering, however; for at onetime he thought he had seen the tapestry in front of the closet move.
Scarcely was the duke gone when the curtain was raised and Margueritereappeared.
"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 handof his wife.
With the same caution she had used in coming Marguerite returned to herown apartments.
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