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

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СКАЧАТЬ for several of us, at the risk of our lives, have come to save your honor and your liberty; we are prepared to offer you a throne, sire; do you realize this? not only liberty, but power; a throne of your own choice, for in two months you could choose between Navarre and France.”

      “De Mouy,” said Henry, covering his eyes, which in spite of himself had emitted a flash at the above suggestion, “De Mouy, I am safe, I am a Catholic, I am the husband of Marguerite, I am the brother of King Charles, I am the son-inlaw of my good mother Catharine. De Mouy, in assuming these various positions, I have calculated their opportunities and also their obligations.”

      “But, sire,” said De Mouy, “what must one believe? I am told that your marriage is not contracted, that at heart you are free, that the hatred of Catharine”—

      “Lies, lies,” interrupted the Béarnais hastily. “Yes, you have been shamefully deceived, my friend; this dear Marguerite is indeed my wife, Catharine is really my mother, and King Charles IX. is the lord and master of my life and of my heart.”

      De Mouy shuddered, and an almost scornful smile passed over his lips.

      “In that case, sire,” said he dropping his arms dejectedly, and trying to fathom that soul filled with shadows, “this is the answer I am to take back to my brothers — I shall tell them that the King of Navarre extends his hand and opens his heart to those who have cut our throats; I shall tell them that he has become the flatterer of the queen mother and the friend of Maurevel.”

      “My dear De Mouy,” said Henry, “the King is coming out of the council chamber, and I must go and find out from him the reasons for our having had to give up so important a thing as a hunt. Adieu; imitate me, my friend, give up politics, return to the King and attend mass.”

      Henry led or rather pushed into the antechamber the young man, whose amazement was beginning to change into fury.

      Scarcely was the door closed before, unable any longer to resist the longing to avenge himself on something in defence of some one, De Mouy twisted his hat between his hands, threw it upon the floor, and stamping on it as a bull would stamp on the cloak of the matador:

      “By Heaven!” he cried, “he is a wretched prince, and I have half a mind to kill myself here in order to stain him forever with my blood.”

      “Hush, Monsieur de Mouy!” said a voice through a half-open door; “hush! some one besides myself might hear you.”

      De Mouy turned quickly and perceived the Duc d’Alençon enveloped in a cloak, advancing into the corridor with pale face, to make sure that he and De Mouy were entirely alone.

      “Monsieur le Duc d’Alençon,” cried De Mouy, “I am lost!”

      “On the contrary,” murmured the prince, “perhaps you have found what you are looking for, and the proof of this is that I do not want you to kill yourself here as you had an idea of doing just now. Believe me, your blood can in all probability be put to better use than to redden the threshold of the King of Navarre.”

      At these words the duke threw back the door which he had been holding half open.

      “This chamber belongs to two of my gentlemen,” said the duke. “No one will interrupt us here. We can, therefore, talk freely. Come in, monsieur.”

      “I, here, monseigneur!” cried the conspirator in amazement. He entered the room, the door of which the Duc d’Alençon closed behind him no less quickly than the King of Navarre had done.

      De Mouy entered, furious, exasperated, cursing. But by degrees the cold and steady glance of the young Duc François had the same effect on the Huguenot captain as does the enchanted lake which dissipates drunkenness.

      “Monseigneur,” said he, “if I understand correctly, your highness wishes to speak to me.”

      “Yes, Monsieur de Mouy,” replied François. “In spite of your disguise I thought I recognized you, and when you presented arms to my brother Henry, I recognized you perfectly. Well, De Mouy, so you are not pleased with the King of Navarre?”

      “Monseigneur!”

      “Come, come! tell me frankly, unless you distrust me; perhaps I am one of your friends.”

      “You, monseigneur?”

      “Yes, I; so speak.”

      “I do not know what to say to your highness, monseigneur. The matter I had to discuss with the King of Navarre concerned interests which your highness would not comprehend. Moreover,” added De Mouy with a manner which he strove to render indifferent, “they were mere trifles.”

      “Trifles?” said the duke.

      “Yes, monseigneur.”

      “Trifles, for which you felt you would risk your life by coming back to the Louvre, where you know your head is worth its weight in gold. We are not ignorant of the fact that you, as well as the King of Navarre and the Prince de Condé, are one of the leaders of the Huguenots.”

      “If you think that, monseigneur, act towards me as the brother of King Charles and the son of Queen Catharine should act.”

      “Why should you wish me to act in that way, when I have told you that I am a friend of yours? Tell me the truth.”

      “Monseigneur,” said De Mouy, “I swear to you”—

      “Do not swear, monseigneur; the reformed church forbids the taking of oaths, and especially of false oaths.”

      De Mouy frowned.

      “I tell you I know all,” continued the duke.

      De Mouy was still silent.

      “You doubt it?” said the prince with affected persistence. “Well, my dear De Mouy, we shall have to be convinced. Come, now, you shall judge if I am wrong. Did you or did you not propose to my brother-inlaw Henry, in his room just now,” the duke pointed to the chamber of the Béarnais, “your aid and that of your followers to reinstate him in his kingdom of Navarre?”

      De Mouy looked at the duke with a startled gaze.

      “A proposition which he refused with terror.”

      De Mouy was still amazed.

      “Did you then invoke your old friendship, the remembrance of a common religion? Did you even hold out to the King of Navarre a very brilliant hope, a hope so brilliant that he was dazzled by it — the hope of winning the crown of France? Come, tell me; am I well informed? Is that what you came to propose to the Béarnais?”

      “Monseigneur!” cried De Mouy, “this is so true, that I now wonder if I should not tell your royal highness that you have lied! to arouse in this chamber a combat without mercy, and thus to make sure of the extinction of this terrible secret by the death of both of us.”

      “Gently, my brave De Mouy, gently!” said the Duc d’Alençon without changing countenance, or without taking the slightest notice of this terrible threat.

      “The secret will die better with us if we both live than if one of us were to die. Listen to me, and stop pulling at the handle of your sword. For the third time I say that СКАЧАТЬ