white satin scarf and waved it in the air.

Mole and Orthon.

They were la Marguerite pointed them out with her finger to Charles. "What does this mean?" asked he.

"It means," returned Marguerite, "that M. d'Alençon may put his cord in his pocket, and MM. d'Anjou and Guise may sheathe their swords, for M. de la Mole will not pass through the corridor to-night."

CHAPTER XL.

THE ATRIDES.

SINCE his return to Paris, Henry d'Anjou had not had a confidential interview with his mother Catherine, of whom, as every body knows, he was the favourite son.

And Catherine really preferred this child for his courage, or even more for his beauty. She alone knew of his return to Paris, of which Charles IX. would have remained ignorant, if chance had not conducted him to the Hotel de Condé at the moment when his brother was quitting it. Charles had not expected him until the next day, and Henry d'Anjou had hoped to conceal from him the two motives which had hastened his arrival by a day, namely, his visit to the lovely Marie de Cleves, princess de Condé, and his conference with the Polish ambassadors.

When the duke d'Anjou, so long expected, entered his mother's apartment, Catherine, usually so cold and unmoved, and who, since the departure of her son, had embraced no one with warmth except Coligny, who was to be murdered next day, opened her arms to the child of her love, and pressed him to her heart with an effusion of maternal affection astonishing to find in that withered heart.

"Ah, madame," said he, "since Heaven gives me the satisfaction of embracing my mother without witness, pray console the most wretched man in the world."

"Eh, mon Dieu! my dearest child," cried Catherine, "what has happened to you?"

'Nothing that you do not know, mother; I am in love; I am beloved; but this very love, which would form the bliss of any other, causes my misery."

"Explain yourself, my son," said Catherine.

"Ah! mother-these ambassadors-this departure." "Yes," said Catherine, "the ambassadors have arrivedthe departure is nigh at hand."

"It need not be nigh at hand, but my brother urges it; he hates me; I am in his way, and he would fain be rid of me." Catherine smiled.

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By giving you a throne? unhappy crowned head!"

"Oh, I need it not, mother," replied Henry, in agony; "I do not wish to go. I! a son of France! brought up in the refinement of polished manners, beside a tender mother; beloved by one of the most charming women on earth, must I go, then, amidst snows at the furthest extremity of the earth, to die by inches, amongst coarse rough people, who are intoxicated from morning till night, and gauge the сараcities of their king as they do those of a cask, according to the quantity it can hold! No, no, my mother, I will not goI will die first!"

"Courage, Henry," said Catherine, pressing his hands between her own, "let us inquire into the real reason.'

Henry lowered his eyes, as if he dared not let his mother read what was in his heart.

"Is there no other reason," she asked, "less romantic, more reasonable, more public?"

"Mother, it is not my fault if this idea dwells in my mind, and perchance retains a place it should not hold: but have you not said yourself that the horoscope of my brother Charles prophesies that he will die young?"

"Yes," replied Catherine, "but a horoscope may lie, my son. I myself, at this moment hope that all horoscopes are not true."

"But did not his horoscope declare this?"

"His horoscope spoke of a quarter of a century, but did not say if it were for his life or for his reign."

"Well, then, dear mother, contrive that I remain; my brother is nearly four-and-twenty, and another year must decide."

Catherine pondered deeply.

"Yes, assuredly," she said, "it would be better if it could be so arranged."

"Oh, judge then, my mother," cried Henry, "what despair for me, if I were to exchange the crown of France for the crown of Poland! To be tormented there with the idea that I might reign at the Louvre, in the midst of this lettered and elegant court, near the best mother in the world, whose counsels would save me one half my fatigue and labours, who, accustomed to bear with my father a portion of the burthen of the state, would kindly bear it also with me. Ah, my mother, I should have been a great king!"

"Come, come, my dearest child," said Catherine, to whom this prospect had always been a very sweet hope, "come, do not despair. Have you thought of any way by which this could be arranged?"

"Yes, assuredly, and that is the principal reason why I returned two or three days before I was expected, making my brother Charles believe that it was for Madame de Condé; then I have formed an acquaintance with Lasco, the principal envoy, doing all I could to make myself unpopular and disliked, and I hope I have succeeded."

"Ah, my dear son," said Catherine, "that is bad; we must always put the interest of France before your petty dislikes."

"Mother, does the interest of France require, in case of any misfortune happening to my brother Charles, that d'Alençon or the king of Navarre should ascend the throne?" "Oh, the king of Navarre!-never! never!" murmured Catherine.

"Ma foi!" continued Henry, "my brother d'Alençon is no better, and does not love you more.

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Well," asked Catherine, "and what said Lasco?" "Lasco hesitated when I pressed him to seek an audience. Oh! if he would write to Poland, and annul the election." "Folly, my son-very madness! What a diet has consecrated, is sacred."

in

"But then, mother, could not these Poles accept my brother my stead?"

"This is difficult, if not impossible.”

"Never mind; try; speak to the king, mother; ascribe all to my love for madame de Condé. say I am mad, crazy

about her. He saw me, besides, leave the hotel of the prince with Guise, who does me every service in that quarter."

"Yes, in order to make his League; you do not perceive this, but I do."

"Yes, mother, yes; but, in the meantime, I make use of him. Should we not be glad when a man serves us whilst serving himself?"

"And what said the king when he met you?"

"He seemed to believe what I told him, which was, that love only had brought me back to Paris."

"But did he not ask you for any account of the rest of the night?"

"Yes, mother; but I went to sup at Nantouillets, where I made a great riot, so that the king might hear of it, and have no suspicion as to where I was.'

“Then he knows nothing of your visit to Lasco?"

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Nothing."

"So much the better. I will try, then, to speak for you, my poor boy; but you know the intractable disposition of him with whom I have to deal."

"Charles will not allow me to remain. He detests me." "He is jealous of you, my beautiful hero! Why are you so brave and fortunate? Why, at scarcely twenty years of age, have you gained battles like Alexander and Cæsar? But do not open your heart to every one. Pretend to be resigned, and pay your court to the king. Leave all the rest Apropos, and how succeeded your expedition of last

to me.

night?"

“It failed, mother. The gay gallant was warned, and escaped by the window."

"Some day," said Catherine, "I shall learn who is the bad genius who thus counteracts all my projects. In the meanwhile, I have my suspicion. Malediction be on him!"

"Then, mother" said the duke d'Anjou.

"Leave me to manage all;" and kissing Henry tenderly, he left the apartment.

Charles was in a

The princes of the house then arrived. capital humour; for the assurance of his sister Marguerite had rather pleased than vexed him. He felt no offence against La Mole otherwise, and had awaited him with some ardour in the corridor, simply because it was a kind of chase.

D'Alençon, on the other hand, was much prc-occupied. The repulsion he had always felt for la Mole, had changed into hate from the moment he knew that he was beloved by his sister.

Marguerite was, at the same time, meditative and alert. She had to remember and to watch. The Polish deputies

had sent a copy of the harangues to be pronounced.

Marguerite, to whom no more mention had been made of the occurrences of the previous evening, than if they had never taken place, read the discourses; and, except Charles, every one discussed what the replies should be. Charles allowed Marguerite to reply as she pleased. He was somewhat difficult in his choice of words for d'Alençon; but as to the discourse of Henry d'Anjou, he attacked it bitterly, and made endless corrections and additions.

This meeting, without having any decisive issue, tended to envenom the feelings of all. Henry d'Anjou, who had to rewrite nearly all his discourse, went out to perform his task. Marguerite, who had not heard of the king of Navarre since he had broken her window-pane, went to his apartment, in the hope of finding him there. D'Alençon, who had read the hesitation in his brother d'Anjou's eyes, and surprised a meaning look between him and his mother, withdrew to ponder over what might be the fresh plot. Charles was going to his forge to finish a boar-spear he was making for himself, when Catherine stopped him.

Charles, who expected some opposition to his will from his mother, paused, and gazed sternly on her.

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Well," said he, "and what now?"

"One other word, sire: we had forgotten it, and yet it is of much importance. What day do you fix for the public reception?"

"True!" said the king, seating himself; "let us talk it over, mother. Well, what day shall it be?"

"I think," replied Catherine, "that in your majesty's silence, your apparent forgetfulness, there was something of deep calculation."

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Why so, mother?"

"Because," added the queen mother, very quietly, "there is no need, my son, as it appears to me, that the Poles should see us crave their crown with such avidity."