"if I were inclined to make your majesty tell a falsehood"—
"Ma mie, try"—
"Ah, ma foi! I confess I am tempted to do so."
"Give in! Women are never so strong as after they are defeated."
"Sire, I hold you to your promise for Dariole when you shall be King of France."
Henry uttered an exclamation of joy.
At the precise moment when this cry escaped the lips of the Béarnais, the Queen of Navarre was replying to the Duc de Guise:
"Noctu pro more—to-night as usual."
Then Henry turned away from Madame de Sauve as happy as the Duc de Guise had been when he left Marguerite de Valois.
An hour after the double scene we have just related, King Charles and the queen mother retired to their apartments. Almost immediately the rooms 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 hooted as they passed. Then Henry de Guise, with the Lorraine gentlemen and the Catholics, left in their turn, greeted by cries of joy and plaudits of the people.
But Marguerite de Valois, Henry de Navarre, and Madame de Sauve lived in the Louvre.
CHAPTER II.
THE QUEEN OF NAVARRE'S BEDCHAMBER.
The Duc de Guise escorted his sister-in-law, the Duchess de Nevers, to her hôtel in the Rue du Chaume, facing the Rue de Brac, and after he had put her into the hands of her women, he went to his own apartment to change his dress, put on a night cloak, and armed himself with one of those short, keen poniards which are called "foi de gentilhomme," and were worn without swords; but as he took it off the table on which it lay, 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 to-night; 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."
"Aha!" said the duke, addressing his valet, "this is a singular warning, Maître Robin. Now be kind enough to tell me who has been here during my absence."
"Only one person, monseigneur."
"Who?"
"Monsieur du Gast."
"Aha! In fact, methinks I recognize the handwriting. And you are sure that Du Gast came? You saw him?"
"More than that, monseigneur; I spoke with him."
"Very good; then I will follow his advice—my steel jacket and my sword."
The valet, accustomed to these changes of 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 over his coat of mail his small clothes and a doublet of gray and silver, his favorite colors, put on a pair of long boots which reached to the middle of his thighs, covered his head with a velvet toque unadorned with feathers or precious stones, threw over his shoulders a dark-colored cloak, hung 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.
As he went down the steps of the hôtel, the watchman of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois had just announced one o'clock in the morning.
Though the night was far gone and the streets at this time were very far from safe, no accident befell the adventurous prince on the way, and safe and sound he approached the colossal mass of the ancient Louvre, all the lights of which had been extinguished one after the other, so that it rose portentous in its silence and darkness.
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. But this first floor, 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; nevertheless the Duc 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 which 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 woman's voice, in a still lower tone.
"And Marguerite?"
"Is waiting for you."
"’T is 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, tied it securely. Then the prince, after having buckled his sword to his belt, ascended without accident. When he had entered, the bar was replaced and the window closed, while 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, beneath the shadow of the wall.
The night was extremely dark, and large drops of warm rain were falling from the heavy clouds charged with electric fluid.
The Duc de Guise followed his guide, who was no other than the daughter of Jacques de Matignon, maréchal of France. She was the especial confidante of Marguerite, who kept no secret from her; and it was said that among 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 low rooms or in the corridors, 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 built in the thick wall, and opening by a secret and invisible door into the antechamber of Marguerite's apartment.
In this antechamber, which like all the other lower rooms was perfectly dark, Gillonne stopped.
"Have you brought what the queen requested?" she inquired, in a low voice.
"Yes," replied the Duc de Guise; "but I will give it only to her majesty in person."
"Come, then, and do not lose an instant!" said a voice from the darkness, which made the duke start, for he recognized it as Marguerite's.
At the same moment a curtain of violet velvet covered with golden 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. So Marguerite de Valois herself now became
