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"The meeting will not break up until very late,” replied Gillonne, "so that it is probable her majesty will sleep at the Hotel de Guise."

"She is very happy," murmured Catherine; "she has friends, and is a queen; she wears a crown, and is called your majesty, and she has no subjects."

Gillonne made her courtesy, and left the room. "Go on, Charlotte," said the queen.

Madame de Sauve obeyed.

In ten minutes Catherine stopped her.

"Oh, by the way," said she, "dismiss the guards in the gallery."

This was the signal agreed upon with Maurevel.

The order was executed, and madame de Sauve continued. She had read for a quarter of an hour, when a long and piercing cry was heard, that made the hair of all in the chamber stand on end.

A pistol-shot followed.

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"Well, said Catherine, "why do you not go on reading?" Madame," replied Charlotte, turning deadly pale-" did not your majesty hear ?"

"What?" asked Catherine.

"That cry!"

"And that pistol-shot?" added the captain of the guards. "A cry and a pistol-shot!" said Catherine, "I heard them not; besides, a cry and a pistol-shot are nothing so very extraordinary at the Louvre.-Read on, Carlotta."

"But listen, madame," said madame de Sauve, whilst M. de Nancey stood grasping his sword-hilt, not daring to leave the apartment without the queen's permission, "I hear struggling, imprecations

"Shall I go and see, madame?" asked de Nancey.

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'No, sir," returned Catherine. "Who will be here to protect me in case of danger? It is only some drunken Swiss quarrelling."

The tranquillity of the queen contrasted so strangely with the alarm of every one else, that madame de Sauve, timid as she was, fixed her eyes inquiringly on her.

"But, madame," said she, "it is as if they were killing some one."

Whom do you think they are killing?"

"The king of Navarre, madame; for the noise comes from his apartments."

"The fool!" murmured the queen, whose lips, spite of the control she had over herself, were strangely agitated, for she was muttering a prayer-" the fool! she sees her king of Navarre everywhere."

"Mon Dieu! mon Dieu !" said madame de Sauve, sinking into her chair.

"It is over," said Catherine. "Captain," continued she, addressing M. de Nancey, "I hope that to-morrow you will inquire into this, and punish the culprits severely.-Continue, Carlotta."

And Catherine sank back on her pillow in a state that seemed near akin to fainting, for her attendants remarked large drops of perspiration on her face.

Madame de Sauve obeyed, but her eyes and her voice alone were engaged. She fancied she saw him most dear to her, surrounded by deadly perils, and after a mental struggle of some minutes, her voice failed her, the book fell from her hands, and she fainted.

Suddenly a still more violent noise than before was heard, a hasty step shook the corridor, two more pistol-shots made the window-panes shake. Catherine, astonished at this renewal of the strife, rose; she was deadly pale, her eyes were dilated, and at the moment de Nancey was about to rush from the apartment, she seized his arm, saying—

"Let every one stay here; I will go myself and see what is the matter."

Thus it was: de Mouy had received that morning, from the hands of Orthon, the key of Henry's chamber; in the key he remarked a small roll of paper, which he took out and found it to contain the pass-word at the Louvre for the night. Orthon_had, moreover, given him the king's directions to be at the Louvre at ten o'clock.

At half-past nine, de Mouy put on his armour, buttoned a silken doublet on it, buckled over his sword, placed his pistols in his belt, and covered all with the famous cherry mantle.

We have seen how Henry thought fit to pay Marguerite a visit before entering his own apartments, and how he arrived by the secret passage just in time to run against la Mole, in Marguerite's chamber, and to take his place in the supper

room: precisely at this moment, de Mouy passed the wicket of the Louvre, and, thanks to the pass-word and the cherry mantle, entered the palace without obstacle.

He went straight to the king of Navarre's apartments, imitating, as well as he could, la Mole's walk and manner. He found Orthon waiting for him in the antechamber.

"Sire de Mouy," said the mountaineer, "the king has gone out, but he has ordered me to conduct you to his chamber, where you are to wait:-should he not come until late, he desires you will lie down on his bed."

De Mouy entered, without asking further explanation.

In order to fill up the time, de Mouy took pen and paper, and approaching an excellent map of France that hung on the wall, set himself to count the stages from Paris to Pau.

This did not occupy him long, and when he had finished he was at a loss what to do.

He walked up and down the room a few times, yawned, and then profiting by Henry's invitation, and by the familiarity that then existed between princes and their gentlemen, placed his pistols and the lamp on the table, laid his drawn sword by his side, and secure against surprise, for an attendant was watching in the outer chamber, soon slept soundly..

It was then that six men, sword and dagger in hand, glided noiselessly along the corridor that communicated with Henry's apartments.

One of these men walked in front; besides his sword and dagger, he had pistols attached to his belt by silver hooks. This man was Maurevel. Arrived at Henry's door, he stopped.

"Are you quite sure all the sentinels are gone?" asked he. "There is not one left," replied his lieutenant. "Good," said Maurevel; " now let us see whether he we come for is here."

"Poor devil of a king!" said one of the men; written on high he should not escape."

"it was

"And here also," said Maurevel, pointing to the order in. his girdle.

Maurevel placed the key Catherine had given him in the lock, and leaving two men at the door, passed with the others into the antechamber.

"Ah," said he, hearing, even from that distance, the loud breathing of the sleeper-"it seems we have got him!"

Orthon, thinking it was his master, advanced and found himself in the presence of five armed men. At the sight of their sinister faces, and more particularly at that of Maurevel, he recoiled and planted himself before the second door.

"Who are you?" said Orthon-" and what do you want?" "In the king's name," said Maurevel, "where is your master?"

"He is absent."

""Tis false!" replied Maurevel.

"Stand back!"

Orthon seized the handle of the door.

"You shall not enter!" cried he.

At a sign from Maurevel, the four men grasped the faithful page, tore him from his hold, and as he was about to cry out, Maurevel placed his hand on his mouth. Orthon bit the assassin furiously, who uttered a suppressed cry, and struck him on the head with the pommel of his sword. crying, "Treason! treason!"

His voice failed him, and he fainted.

Orthon fell,

The assassins passed over his body: two stationed themselves at the second door, and the three others, led by Maurevel, entered the bedchamber.

By the light of the lamp they saw the bed: the curtains were closed.

"Oh," said the lieutenant, "he snores no longer!'

"Now, then-upon him!" replied Maurevel.

At this voice, a hoarse cry, more like the roar of a lion than the voice of a human being, was heard, the curtains were violently drawn back, and a man in a cuirass and steel cap, appeared sitting on the bed, a pistol in each hand, and his drawn sword on his knees. At this sight, Maurevel's hair stood on end, he turned deadly pale, and recoiled as if he had seen a spectre.

Suddenly, the armed figure rose and advanced towards Maurevel, as he retreated, so that it was he who seemed to fly, and de Mouy who seemed to pursue.

"Ah, scoundrel!" said de Mouy-" you are come to murder me, as you murdered my father!"

The two guards who were with Maurevel alone heard

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these terrible words; but as they were uttered, one of de Mouy's pistols was levelled at Maurevel's head. The ruffian | sank on his knees at the instant de Mouy pulled the trigger, and one of the guards whom he uncovered by this movement, fell with a bullet in his heart; Maurevel instantly fired in return, but the ball glanced off de Mouy's cuirass.

Then measuring the distance and calculating his spring, de Mouy, with a back stroke of his large sword, cleft the scull of the second guard, and turning to Maurevel, crossed weapons with him.

The combat was terrible, but brief: at the fourth pass, Maurevel felt de Mouy's sword in his throat; he uttered a low groan, and fell, upsetting the lamp, which was extinguished in the fall.

Agile and powerful as one of Homer's heroes, de Mouy sprang boldly forward, favoured by the obscurity, into the antechamber, felled one of the guards to the earth, sent the other staggering from him, passed like lightning between the two at the outer door, escaped two pistol-shots fired at him, the balls of which grazed the corridor, and was then safe, for besides the sword with which he dealt such fearful blows he had a loaded pistol.

He hesitated an instant whether he should enter d'Alençon's apartments, the door of which seemed a-jar, or escape from the Louvre: resolving upon the latter course, he sprang down the stairs, arrived at the wicket, pronounced the password, adding—"Go up stairs! they are killing on the king's account."

And availing himself of the stupefaction produced by the report of the pistols and his own words, he disappeared in the Rue du Coq, without having received a scratch.

It was at this moment that Catherine stopped M. de Nancey, saying:

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Stay here; I will go myself and see what is the matter." Then taking a lamp, and passing her naked feet into slippers, Catherine advanced, pale as a spectre, along the corridor, full of smoke, towards Henry's apartments.

All was silent.

She arrived at the door, entered, and found Orthon senseless on the threshold.

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