THE VALOIS SAGA: Queen Margot, Chicot de Jester & The Forty-Five Guardsmen (Historical Novels). Alexandre Dumas

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СКАЧАТЬ me beg of your majesty to enter there,” said Marguerite; “for I am desirous of having the honor of presenting to you a worthy gentleman, wounded during the massacre while making his way to the Louvre to apprise your majesty of the danger with which you were threatened.”

      The queen went toward the door, and Henry followed her. She opened it, and the king was thunderstruck at beholding a man in this cabinet, fated to reveal such continued surprises.

      But La Mole was still more surprised at thus unexpectedly finding himself in the presence of Henry of Navarre. The result was that the king cast an ironical glance on Marguerite, who bore it without flinching.

      “Sire,” said she, “I am in dread lest this gentleman may be murdered even here, in my very chamber; he is devoted to your majesty’s service, and for that reason I commend him to your royal protection.”

      “Sire,” continued the young man, “I am the Comte Lerac de la Mole, whom your majesty was expecting; I was recommended to you by that poor Monsieur de Téligny, who was killed by my side.”

      “Aha!” replied Henry; “you are right, sir. The queen gave me his letter; but have you not also a letter from the governor of Languedoc?”

      “Yes, sire, and I was recommended to deliver it to your majesty as soon as I arrived.”

      “Why did you not do so?”

      “Sire, I hastened to the Louvre last evening, but your majesty was too much occupied to give me audience.”

      “True!” answered the king; “but I should think you might have sent the letter to me?”

      “I had orders from Monsieur d’Auriac to give it to no one else but your majesty, since it contained, he said, information so important that he feared to entrust it to any ordinary messenger.”

      “The contents are, indeed, of a serious nature,” said the king, when he had received and read the letter; “advising my instant withdrawal from the court of France, and retirement to Béarn. M. d’Auriac, although a Catholic, was always a stanch friend of mine; and it is possible that, acting as governor of a province, he got scent of what was in the wind here. Ventre saint gris! monsieur! why was not this letter given to me three days ago, instead of now?”

      “Because, as I before assured your majesty, that using all the speed and diligence in my power, it was wholly impossible to arrive before yesterday.”

      “That is very unfortunate, very unfortunate,” murmured the king; “we should then have been in security, either at Rochelle or in some broad plain surrounded by two or three thousand trusty horsemen.”

      “Sire, what is done is done,” said Marguerite, in a low voice, “and instead of wasting your time complaining over the past you must do the best possible with the future.”

      “If you were in my place, madame,” replied Henry, with his questioning look, “you would still have hope, would you?”

      “Certainly I should; I should consider myself as playing a game of three points, of which I had lost only the first.”

      “Ah, madame,” whispered Henry, “if I dared but hope that you would go partners with me in the game”—

      “If I had intended to side with your adversaries,” replied Marguerite, “I should scarcely have delayed so long.”

      “True!” replied Henry, “and I am ungrateful; and as you say, the past may still be repaired.”

      “Alas! sire,” said La Mole, “I wish your majesty every kind of good fortune; but now the admiral is no more.”

      Over Henry’s face passed that sly, peasant-like smile, which was not understood at court until after he became King of France.

      “But, madame,” said the king, attentively observing La Mole, “this gentleman cannot remain here without causing you considerable inconvenience, and being himself subject to very unpleasant surprises. What will you do with him?”

      “Could we not remove him from the Louvre?” asked Marguerite, “for I entirely agree with you!”

      “It will be difficult.”

      “Then could not Monsieur de la Mole find accommodation in your majesty’s apartments?”

      “Alas, madame! you speak as if I were still King of the Huguenots, and had subjects to command. You are aware that I am half converted to the Catholic faith and have no people at all.”

      Any one but Marguerite would have promptly answered: “He is a Catholic.”

      But the queen wished Henry himself to ask her to do the very thing she was desirous of effecting; while La Mole, perceiving his protectress’s caution and not knowing where to set foot on the slippery ground of such a dangerous court as that of France, remained perfectly silent.

      “But what is this the governor says in his letter?” said Henry, again casting his eyes over the missive he held in his hand. “He states that your mother was a Catholic, and from that circumstance originates the interest he felt in you.”

      “And what were you telling me, Monsieur le Comte,” said Marguerite, “respecting a vow you had formed to change your religion? I confess my recollection on the subject is somewhat confused. Have the goodness to assist me, M. de la Mole. Did not your conversation refer to something of the nature the king appears to desire?”

      “Alas! madame, what I did say was so coldly received by your majesty that I did not dare”—

      “Simply because it in no way concerned me,” answered Marguerite. “But explain yourself to the king — explain!”

      “Well, what was the vow?” asked the king.

      “Sire,” said La Mole, “when pursued by assassins, myself unarmed, and almost expiring from my two wounds, I fancied I beheld my mother’s spirit holding a cross in her hands and guiding me to the Louvre. Then I vowed that if my life were preserved I would adopt the religion of my mother, who had been permitted to leave her grave to direct me to a place of safety during that horrible night. Heaven conducted me here, sire. I find myself here under the protection of a princess of France and of the King of Navarre; my life was miraculously saved, therefore I must fulfil my vow. I am ready to become a Catholic.”

      Henry frowned. Sceptic that he was, he could well understand a change of religion from motives of interest, but he distrusted abjuration through faith.

      “The king does not want to take charge of my protégé,” thought Marguerite.

      La Mole still remained mute and awkward between the two opposing wills. He felt, without being able to define why, that he was in a ridiculous position. Marguerite’s womanly tact came to his relief.

      “Sire,” said she, “we forget that the poor wounded gentleman has need of repose. I myself am half asleep. Ah, see!”

      La Mole did indeed turn pale; but it was at Marguerite’s last words, which he had interpreted according to his own ideas.

      “Well, madame,” answered Henry, “nothing can be simpler. Can we not leave Monsieur de la Mole to take his repose.”

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