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

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      “As your Majesty pleases,” said the young wife, falling into, rather than sitting upon the seat which her husband pointed out to her.

      The Béarnais placed himself beside her. “Madame,” he continued, “whatever many persons may have said, I think our marriage is a good marriage. I stand well with you; you stand well with me.”

      “But —” said Marguerite, alarmed.

      “Consequently, we ought,” observed the King of Navarre, without seeming to notice Marguerite’s hesitation, “to act towards each other like good allies, since we have today sworn alliance in the presence of God. Don’t you think so?”

      “Unquestionably, Monsieur.”

      “I know, Madame, how great your penetration is; I know how the ground at court is intersected with dangerous abysses. Now, I am young, and although I never injured any one, I have a great many enemies. In which camp, Madame, ought I to range her who bears my name, and who has vowed her affection to me at the foot of the altar?”

      “Monsieur, could you think —”

      “I think nothing, Madame; I hope, and I am anxious to know that my hope is well founded. It is quite certain that our marriage is merely a pretext or a snare.”

      Marguerite started, for perhaps the same thought had occurred to her own mind.

      “Now, then, which of the two?” continued Henri de Navarre. “The king hates me; the Duc d’Anjou hates me; the Duc d’Alençon hates me; Catherine de Médicis hated my mother too much not to hate me.”

      “Oh, Monsieur, what are you saying?”

      “The truth, madame,” replied the king; “and in order that it may not be supposed that I am deceived as to Monsieur de Mouy’s assassination and the poisoning of my mother, I wish that some one were here who could hear me.”

      “Oh, sire,” replied Marguerite, with an air as calm and smiling as she could assume, “you know very well that there is no person here but you and myself.”

      “It is for that very reason that I thus give vent to my thoughts; this it is that emboldens me to declare that I am not deceived by the caresses showered on me by the House of France or the House of Lorraine.”

      “Sire, sire!” exclaimed Marguerite.

      “Well, what is it, ma mie?” inquired Henry, smiling in his turn.

      “Why, sire, such remarks are very dangerous.”

      “Not when we are alone,” observed the king. “I was saying”—

      Marguerite was evidently distressed; she desired to stop every word the king uttered, but he continued, with his apparent good nature:

      “I was telling you that I was threatened on all sides: threatened by the King, threatened by the Duc d’Alençon, threatened by the Duc d’Anjou, threatened by the queen mother, threatened by the Duc de Guise, by the Duc de Mayenne, by the Cardinal de Lorraine — threatened, in fact, by every one. One feels that instinctively, as you know, madame. Well, against all these threats, which must soon become attacks, I can defend myself by your aid, for you are beloved by all the persons who detest me.”

      “I?” said Marguerite.

      “Yes, you,” replied Henry, with the utmost ease of manner; “yes, you are beloved by King Charles, you are beloved” (he laid strong emphasis on the word) “by the Duc d’Alençon, you are beloved by Queen Catharine, and you are beloved by the Duc de Guise.”

      “Sire!” murmured Marguerite.

      “Yes; and what is there astonishing in the fact that every one loves you? All I have mentioned are your brothers or relatives. To love one’s brothers and relatives is to live according to God’s heart.”

      “But what, then,” asked Marguerite, greatly overcome, “what do you mean?”

      “What I have just said, that if you will be-I do not mean my love — but my ally, I can brave everything; while, on the other hand, if you become my enemy, I am lost.”

      “Oh, your enemy! — never, sir!” exclaimed Marguerite.

      “And my love — never either?”

      “Perhaps”—

      “And my ally?”

      “Most decidedly.”

      And Marguerite turned round and offered her hand to the king.

      Henry took it, kissed it gallantly, and retaining it in his own, more from a desire of investigation than from any sentiment of tenderness, said:

      “Very well, I believe you, madame, and accept the alliance. They married us without our knowing each other — without our loving each other; they married us without consulting us — us whom they united. We therefore owe nothing to each other as man and wife; you see that I even go beyond your wishes and confirm this evening what I said to you yesterday; but we ally ourselves freely and without any compulsion. We ally ourselves, as two loyal hearts who owe each other mutual protection should ally themselves; ’t is as such you understand it?”

      “Yes, sir,” said Marguerite, endeavoring to withdraw her hand.

      “Well, then,” continued the Béarnais, with his eyes fastened on the door of the cabinet, “as the first proof of a frank alliance is the most perfect confidence, I will now relate to you, madame, in all its details, the plan I have formed in order that we may victoriously meet and overcome all these enmities.”

      “Sire”— said Marguerite, in spite of herself turning her eyes toward the closet, whilst the Béarnais, seeing his trick succeed, laughed in his sleeve.

      “This is what I mean to do,” he continued, without appearing to remark his young wife’s nervousness, “I intend”—

      “Sire,” said Marguerite, rising hastily, and seizing the king’s arm, “allow me a little breath; my emotion — the heat — overpowers me.”

      And, in truth, Marguerite was as pale and trembling as if she was about to fall on the carpet.

      Henry went straight to a window some distance off, and opened it. This window looked out on the river.

      Marguerite followed him.

      “Silence, sire — silence, for your own sake!” she murmured.

      “What, madame,” said the Béarnais, with his peculiar smile, “did you not tell me we were alone?”

      “Yes, sire; but did you not hear me say that by the aid of a tube introduced into the ceiling or the wall everything could be heard?”

      “Well, madame, well,” said the Béarnais, earnestly and in a low voice, “it is true you do not love me, but you are, at least, honorable.”

      “What do you mean, sire?”

      “I mean that if you were capable of СКАЧАТЬ