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that it was this person who was the sport and jest of the king of Navarre."

"By my faith, dearest, you reproach me very unjustly, and I do not comprehend how so lovely a mouth can be so cruel. Do you suppose for a moment that it is I who marry myself? No, ventre-saint-gris, it is not I!"

"It is I, perhaps," said the baroness, sharply.

"With your lovely eyes have you not seen farther, baroness? No, no; it is not Henry of Navarre who weds Marguerite de Valois."

"And what is it, then ?"

"Why, sang Diou! it is the reformed religion which marries the pope-that's all."

"No, no; your majesty loves madame Marguerite. And can I blame you? Heaven forbid! She is beautiful enough to be adored."

Henry reflected for a moment, and, as he reflected, a meaning smile curled the corner of his lips.

"Baroness," said he, "you have no right to seek a quarrel with me. What have you done to prevent me from espousing madame Marguerite? Nothing. On the contrary, you have always driven me to despair, and I wed her because you love

me not."

"If I had loved you, sire, I must have died in another hour."

"In another hour! What do you mean? And of what death would you have died?”

"Of jealousy!—for in another hour the queen of Navarre will send away her women, and your majesty your gentlemen." "Is that really the thought that occupies your mind, ma mie?"

"I have not said so. I only say, that if I loved you it would occupy my mind most tormentingly."

"But suppose," said Henry, "that the king of Navarre should not send away his gentlemen this evening?"

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"Sire," replied madame de Sauve, looking at the king with astonishment for once unfeigned, you say things impossible and incredible."

"What must I do, to make you believe them?" "Give me a proof-and that proof you cannot give me."

"Yes, baroness, yes! By Saint Henry, I will give it you!" exclaimed the king, gazing amorously on her.

"Oh, your majesty!" murmured the lovely Charlotte, with downcast eyes, "I do not comprehend."

"There are four Henries in this room, my adorable!" replied the king. “Henry de France, Henry de Condé, Henry de Guise: but there is only one Henry of Navarre.”

"Well?"

"Well; if this Henry of Navarre is with you all night—— "All night!"

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"Yes; then you will be certain that he is not with any other."

"Ah! if you do that, sire," said madame Sauve.

"On the honour of a gentleman, I will do it!"

Madame de Sauve raised her beaming and love-promising eyes to the king, whose heart beat with joy.

"And then," said Henry, "what will you say?"

"I will say," replied Charlotte, "that your majesty really loves me."

"Ventre-saint-gris! then you shall say it.

Have you not about you some waiting-woman whom you can trust?" 'Yes, Dariole is devoted to me."

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Sang-Diou! then say to her, that I will make her fortune when I am king of France, as the astrologers prophesy."

Charlotte smiled, for even at this period the Gascon reputation of the Béarnais was already established with respect to his promises.

"Well, then, what do you desire of Dariole?"

"Little for her, a great deal for me. Your apartment is

over mine?"

"Yes."

"Let her wait behind the door. I will strike three blows gently, and-"

Madame de Sauve kept silence for several seconds, and then, as if she had looked around her to observe if she were overheard, she fastened her gaze for a moment on the group which environed the queen-mother: brief as the moment was, it was sufficient for Catherine and her lady-in-waiting to exchange a look.

"Oh, if I were inclined," said madame de Sauve, with a syren's accent that would have melted Ulysses himself-"if I were inclined to make your majesty tell a falsehood——"

"Ma mie, try

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"Ah, ma foi! I confess I am tempted to do so."
"Women are never so strong as after their defeat."

"Sire, I hold you to your promise for Dariole, when you shall be king of France."

Henry uttered an exclamation of joy.

It was at the precise moment when the cry escaped the lips of the Béarnais, that the queen of Navarre replied to the duke of Guise:

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Then Henry quitted madame de Sauve as happy as the duke de Guise when he quitted Marguerite de Valois.

An hour after the double scene we have just related, king Charles and the queen-mother also retired to their apartments. Almost immediately the apartments began to empty; the galleries exhibited the bases of their marble columns. The admiral and the prince de Condé were escorted home by four hundred huguenot gentlemen through the middle of the crowd, which groaned as they passed. Then Henry de Guise, with the Lorraine and catholic gentlemen, left in their turn, greeted by the cries of joy and plaudits of the people.

As to Marguerite de Valois, Henry of Navarre, and madame de Sauve, they lived in the Louvre.

CHAPTER II.

HENRY OF NAVARRE AND MARGUERITE.

THE duke de Guise escorted his sister-in-law, the duchess de Nevers, to his hotel in the Rue du Chaume, and then procceded to his own apartment to change his dress, put on a night cloak, and arm himself with one of those short and sharp poniards which were called "foi de gentilhomme," and were worn without swords; but at the moment when he took

it off the table on which it was placed, he perceived a small billet between the blade and the scabbard.

He opened it, and read as follows:

"I hope M. de Guise will not return to the Louvre tonight; or if he does, that he will at least take the precaution to arm himself with a good coat of mail and a proved sword."

"Ah! ah!" said the duke, "this is a singular warning; but I always take good advice-my steel jacket and my sword."

The valet-de-chambre, accustomed to these changes o costume, brought both. The duke put on his jacket, which was made of rings of steel so fine that it was scarcely thicker than velvet; he then drew on a pardessus and pourpoint of grey and silver, his favourite colours, placed a dagger by his side, handed his sword to a page, the only attendant he allowed to accompany him, and took the way to the Louvre, which he reached in safety.

In front of the royal château was a deep fosse, looking into which were the chambers of most of the princes who inhabited the palace. Marguerite's apartment was on the first floor, and, easily accessible but for the fosse, was, in consequence of the depth to which that was cut, thirty feet from the bottom of the wall, and consequently out of the reach of robbers or lovers; but nevertheless the duke de Guise approached it without hesitation.

At the same moment was heard the noise of a window which opened on the ground floor. This window was grated, but a hand appeared, lifted out one of the bars that had been loosened, and dropped from it a silken lace.

"Is that you, Gillonne?" said the duke, in a low voice. "Yes, monseigneur," replied a female voice, in a still lower tone.

"And Marguerite?" "Awaits you."

""Tis well."

Hereupon the duke made a signal to his page, who, opening his cloak, took out a small rope ladder. The prince fastened one end to the silk lace, and Gillonne drawing it up, fastened it, and the prince, after having buckled his sword to his belt, ascended without accident. When he entered,

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the bar was replaced and the window closed, whilst the page, having seen his master quietly enter the Louvre, to the windows of which he had accompanied him twenty times in the same way, laid himself down in his cloak on the grass of the fosse, and beneath the shadow of the wall.

The night was extremely dark, and several large rain-spots fell from the heavy clouds, charged with electric fluid.

The duke de Guise followed his conductress, who was no other than the daughter of Jacques de Matignon, maréchal of France. She was the confidante of Marguerite, who kept no secret from her; and it was said that amongst the number of mysteries entrusted to her incorruptible fidelity, there were some so terrible as to compel her to keep the rest.

There was no light left either in the lower chamber or in the corridor, only from time to time a livid glare illuminated the dark apartments with a vivid flash, which as instantly disappeared.

The duke, still guided by his conductress, who held his hand, reached a staircase formed in the thickness of the wall, and which opened by a secret and invisible door into the antechamber of Marguerite's apartment.

In this antechamber, which was perfectly dark, Gillonne stopped.

"Have you brought what the queen requested?" she inquired, in a low voice.

"Yes," replied the duke de Guise; "but I will only give it to her majesty in person."

66 Come, then, and do not lose an instant!" said a voice from the darkness, which made the duke start, for it was Marguerite's.

At the same moment a curtain of violet velvet covered with fleurs-de-lis was raised, and the duke made out the form of the queen, who, in her impatience, had come to meet him.

"I am here, madame," he then said; and he passed the curtain, which fell behind him. Gillonne remained in the antechamber.

As if she comprehended the jealousies of the duke, Marguerite led him to the bed-chamber, and then paused.

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Well," she said, are you content, duke?"

"Content, madame?" was the reply-" and with what?"

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