This indisposition, which Henry had already adverted to when speaking to the duke d'Alençon, was the first information that Catherine received, when she inquired, with a calm air, why la Sauve did not attend her, as usual, when she

arose.

"She is ill," said madame de Lorraine, who was present. "Ill," repeated Catherine, whilst not a muscle of her face announced the interest she took in the reply; "a little indolent, perhaps?"

"No, madame," replied the princess; "she complains of a violent pain in the head, and a weakness that prevents her from moving."

Catherine made no reply, but to conceal her joy, no doubt, turned towards the window, and seeing Henry cross the court-yard, after his conversation with de Mouy, she said, as she looked at him, to her captain of the guards:

"Do you not think that my son Henry looks paler than usual this morning?"

It is true Henry was considerably disturbed in mind, but perfectly well in body.

Catherine's suite left her, and the instant she was alone, she closed the door securely, and going to a secret cupboard, she drew from a concealed corner a book, whose crumpled leaves proved how frequently it was made use of.

She placed the volume on a table, opened it, and after consulting its pages for a minute, exclaimed:

"Yes, it is so; headache, general weakness, pains in the eyes, swelling of the palate; as yet they only mention headache and weakness; but the other symptoms will appear anon. Then follow inflammation of the throat, which extends over the stomach, surrounds the heart with a circle of fire, and makes the brain burst like a stroke of lightning."

She read on in a low tone, and then said:

"The fever lasts six hours, the general inflammation twelve hours, the gangrene twelve hours, the final agony six hours; in all thirty-six hours.

"Well, then, let us suppose that absorption is a slower process than swallowing; instead of thirty-six hours we shall have forty, or perhaps forty-eight-yes, forty-eight must be sufficient-But he-he-Henry-how is it that he is able to keep up? Why, because he is a man with a robust habit

and perhaps drank something after he had kissed her, and wiped his lips after drinking."

Catherine impatiently awaited the dinner-hour - Henry dined with the king daily-When he came, he complained of giddiness in the head, and did not eat, but withdrew immediately after dinner, saying that as he had been up nearly all the night before, he felt a great desire to sleep.

Catherine listened to Henry's retreating and staggering step, and desired some one to follow him, which was done, and the queen-mother was informed that the king of Navarre had gone towards madame de Sauve's apartment.

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Henry," she said to herself, "will there complete the work of death which unlucky accident may hitherto have rendered incomplete."

The king of Navarre had gone to madame de Sauve's apartment, to request her to continue to play her part.

Next day Henry did not quit his chamber all the morning, nor did he dine at the royal table. Madame de Sauve, it was reported, was worse and worse, and the rumours of Henry's illness, spread by Catherine herself, spread like one of those presentiments which no one can explain.

Catherine awaited, then, with curiosity, with expectation, the moment when some attendant, pale and aghast, should enter her apartment, and cry—

"Your majesty, the king of Navarre is dying, and madame de Sauve is dead."

The clock struck four, and Catherine was feeding with crumbs of bread some rare birds which she herself attended to. Although her features were calm, and even melancholy, her heart beat violently at the least sound.

Suddenly the door opened.

"Madame," said the captain of the guards, "the king of Navarre is

"Ill ?" inquired Catherine, suddenly.

"No, madame, thank God! his majesty seems excellently .well."

"What then have you to say?"

"That the king of Navarre is here.”

"What would he with me?"

"He brings your majesty a small monkey of a very rare sort."

And at this moment Henry entered, holding in his hand a basket, and caressing an onistiti (a small species of the monkey) which was in it.

Henry smiled as he entered, and appeared quite occupied with the small animal he had brought; but yet, preoccupied as he was, he gave a glance which was sufficient under his peculiar circumstances. As to Catherine, she was very pale -deadly pale, indeed, as she saw the cheeks of the young man, as he approached her, glowing with colour and health.

The queen-mother was stupified at this, and accepting mechanically the present he made her, and complimenting him in a troubled voice on his healthy appearance, added—

"I am the more pleased to see you in such health, my son. after having heard that you had been unwell; and I remember you complained of indisposition in my presence: but I see now," she continued, trying to force a smile, "it was only an excuse that you might have your time more freely to yourself."

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Why, I really was very unwell, madame,” replied Henry; "but a specific used in our mountains, and which my mother gave me, cured my indisposition."

"Ah! you will give me the prescription, won't you, Henry?" said Catherine, really smiling this time, but with irony half concealed.

"Some counter-poison," she muttered; "or he was on his guard: seeing madame de Sauve ill, he had some distrust. Really, it would seem that the hand of Providence is extended over this man."

Catherine awaited for night most impatiently. Madame de Sauve did not appear; and it was stated that she was still worse. All the evening the queen-mother was uneasy; and every one asked, what could be the thoughts that thus agitated a countenance usually so little agitated.

Every one retired. Catherine went to bed, and was undressed by her woman; but, when all was hushed in the Louvre, she rose, put on a long black dressing-gown, and with a lamp in her hand, having selected the key that opened madame de Sauve's door, went to the apartment of her maid of honour.

Had Henry anticipated this visit? Was he in his own apartment? Was he hidden somewhere? The young lady was alone.

Catherine opened the door with precaution, passed through the antechamber, entered the saloon, placed the lamp on a table, for there was a night light burning near the invalid, and like a shadow she glided into the sleeping apartment.

Dariole, extended in a large arm-chair, was sleeping near her mistress' bed, which was closed in by curtains.

The breathing of the young lady was so light, that for an instant, Catherine thought she did not breathe at all.

At length she heard a light respiration, and, with malignant joy, she raised the curtain that she might herself witness the effect of the terrible poison, and she shuddered at the anticipated aspect of the livid paleness, or the devouring purple of the mortal fever she hoped to see; but, instead of that, calm, her eyes gently covered by their ivory lids, her mouth rosy and half-opened, her soft cheek reposing on one of her arms, beautifully rounded, whilst the other, fresh and beautiful, was extended on the crimson damask counterpane, the young lady was sleeping with a smile on her lovely features.

Catherine could not repress a cry, which aroused Dariole for an instant.

The queen-mother threw herself behind the bed-curtains. Dariole opened her eyes, but being drowsy she did not even try to account to herself for the cause of her awaking, and her heavy eyelids again dropping, she soon slept.

Catherine then coming from behind the curtain, looking all around, saw on a small table a flask of Spanish wine, some sweetmeats, and two glasses. Henry had supped with the baroness, who was as well as himself.

Catherine then going to the toilette-table took up the small box, which was one-third empty. It was the same, or similar to that she had given. She took from it a morsel of the size of a pearl, at the end of a gold pin, returned to her own apartment, and offered it to the small monkey which Henry had presented to her the same evening. The animal, tempted by the aromatic, seized and swallowed it greedily, and curling himself up in his basket, went to sleep. Catherine waited a quarter of an hour.

"With half such a piece," she said, "my dog Brunot died in a minute. I have been trifled with. Can it be René? René! that is impossible. Then, it is Henry. Cursed fatality, it is clear; as he must reign, he cannot die. Perhaps,

it is only poison against which he is proof: let us then try cold steel."

Catherine went to her couch, turning over in her mind this fresh idea, which she resolved on essaying next day; and, in the morning, summoning the captain of her guards, she gave him a letter to convey to its address, and to be handed only to the person whose name it bore.

It was addressed to "Sire de Louviers de Maurevel, Captain of the King's Petardiers, Rue de la Cerisaie, near the Arsenal."

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE LETTER FROM ROME.

SOME days had elapsed since the events we have related, when one morning a litter, escorted by several gentlemen wearing the colours of M. de Guise, entered the Louvre; and it was announced to the queen of Navarre that the duchess de Nevers desired to pay her respects to her.

Marguerite was receiving a visit from madame de Sauve. It was the first time the lovely baroness had gone out since her pretended illness.

Marguerite congratulated her on her convalescence, and

said:

"You will come, I hope, to the great hunt, which will certainly take place to-morrow."

"Why, madame," replied the baroness, "I do not know that I shall be well enough."

"Bah!" replied Marguerite, "you must make an exertion; and as I myself am a regular warrior, I have authorized the king to place at your disposal a small Béarn horse, which I was to have ridden, and which will carry you famously. So you must accompany us."

"Your majesty overwhelms me, and I will be present, as you desire it."

At this moment the duchess de Nevers was announced. "To-morrow, then," said Marguerite, to madame de Sauve. "Apropos, you know, baroness," continued Margue