I tried to distinguish the arm wielding it and then the body to which the arm belonged. Amid sword-thrusts and shouts I at last made out the man and I saw – a hero, an Ajax Telamon. I heard a voice – the voice of a Stentor. My enthusiasm awoke – I stood there panting, trembling at every blow aimed at him, at every thrust he parried! That was a quarter hour of emotion such as I had never before experienced, my queen; and never believed was possible to experience. So there I was panting, holding my breath, trembling, and voiceless, when all of a sudden my hero disappeared."
"How?"
"Struck down by a stone an old woman threw at him. Then, like Cyrus, I found my voice, and screamed, 'Help! help!' my guards went out, lifted him up, and bore him to the room which you want for your protégé."
"Alas, my dear Henriette, I can better understand this story because it is so nearly my own."
"With this difference, queen, that as I am serving my King and my religion, I have no reason to send Monsieur Annibal de Coconnas away."
"His name is Annibal de Coconnas!" said Marguerite, laughing.
"A terrible name, is it not? Well, he who bears it is worthy of it. What a champion he is, by Heaven! and how he made the blood flow! Put on your mask, my queen, for we are now at the palace."
"Why put on my mask?"
"Because I wish to show you my hero."
"Is he handsome?"
"He seemed magnificent to me during the conflict. To be sure, it was at night and he was lighted up by the flames. This morning by daylight I confess he seemed to me to have lost a little."
"So then my protégé is rejected at the Hôtel de Guise. I am sorry for it, for that is the last place where they would look for a Huguenot."
"Oh, no, your Huguenot shall come; I will have him brought this evening: one shall sleep in the right-hand corner of the closet and the other in the left."
"But when they recognize each other as Protestant and Catholic they will fight."
"Oh, there is no danger. Monsieur de Coconnas has had a cut down the face that prevents him from seeing very well; your Huguenot is wounded in the chest so that he can't move; and, besides, you have only to tell him to be silent on the subject of religion, and all will go well."
"So be it."
"It's a bargain; and now let us go in."
"Thanks," said Marguerite, pressing her friend's hand.
"Here, madame," said the duchess, "you are again 'your majesty;' suffer me, then, to do the honors of the Hôtel de Guise fittingly for the Queen of Navarre."
And the duchess, alighting from the litter, almost knelt on the ground in helping Marguerite to step down; then pointing to the palace door guarded by two sentinels, arquebuse in hand, she followed the queen at a respectful distance, and this humble attitude she maintained as long as she was in sight.
As soon as she reached her room, the duchess closed the door, and, calling to her waiting-woman, a thorough Sicilian, said to her in Italian,
"Mica, how is Monsieur le Comte?"
"Better and better," replied she.
"What is he doing?"
"At this moment, madame, he is taking some refreshment."
"It is always a good sign," said Marguerite, "when the appetite returns."
"Ah, that is true. I forgot you were a pupil of Ambroise Paré. Leave us, Mica."
"Why do you send her away?"
"That she may be on the watch."
Mica left the room.
"Now," said the duchess, "will you go in to see him, or shall I send for him here?"
"Neither the one nor the other. I wish to see him without his seeing me."
"What matters it? You have your mask."
"He may recognize me by my hair, my hands, a jewel."
"How cautious she is since she has been married, my pretty queen!"
Marguerite smiled.
"Well," continued the duchess, "I see only one way."
"What is that?"
"To look through the keyhole."
"Very well! take me to the door."
The duchess took Marguerite by the hand and led her to a door covered with tapestry; then bending one knee, she applied her eye to the keyhole.
"’Tis all right; he is sitting at table, with his face turned toward us; come!"
The queen took her friend's place, and looked through the keyhole; Coconnas, as the duchess had said, was sitting at a well-served table, and, despite his wounds, was doing ample justice to the good things before him.
"Ah, great heavens!" cried Marguerite, starting back.
"What is the matter?" asked the duchess in amazement.
"Impossible! – no! – yes! – on my soul, ’tis the very man!"
"Who?"
"Hush," said Marguerite, getting to her feet and seizing the duchess's hand; "’tis the man who pursued my Huguenot into my room, and stabbed him in my arms! Oh, Henriette, how fortunate he did not see me!"
"Well, then, you have seen him fighting; was he not handsome?"
"I do not know," said Marguerite, "for I was looking at the man he was pursuing."
"What is his name?"
"You will not mention it before the count?"
"No, I give you my promise!"
"Lerac de la Mole."
"And what do you think of him now?"
"Of Monsieur de la Mole?"
"No, of Monsieur de Coconnas?"
"Faith!" said Marguerite, "I confess I think" —
She stopped.
"Come, come," said the duchess, "I see you are angry with him for having wounded your Huguenot."
"Why, so far," said Marguerite, laughing, "my Huguenot owes him nothing; the slash he gave him under his eye" —
"They are quits, then, and we can reconcile them. Send me your wounded man."
"Not now – by and by."
"When?"
"When you have found yours another room."
"Which?"
Marguerite looked meaningly at her friend, who, after a moment's silence, laughed.
"So
