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

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ does he want?”

      “He is bringing your majesty a rare kind of monkey.”

      Just then Henry entered holding in his hand a basket, in which was a little monkey he was petting.

      He entered smiling and seemed wholly absorbed in the dear little animal he brought; but occupied as he appeared to be, he did not fail to give his usual first glance around. This was sufficient for him under trying circumstances. As to Catharine, she was very pale, of a pallor which deepened as she saw that the cheeks of the young man were flushed with the glow of health.

      The queen mother was amazed at this turn of affairs. She accepted Henry’s gift mechanically, appeared agitated, complimented him on looking so well, and added:

      “I am all the more pleased to see you looking so, because I heard that you were ill, and because, if I remember rightly, you yourself complained of not feeling well, in my presence. But I understand now,” she added, trying to smile, “it was an excuse so that you might be free.”

      “No, I have really been very ill, madame,” said Henry, “but a specific used in our mountains, and which comes from my mother, has cured my indisposition.”

      “Ah! you will give me the recipe, will you not, Henry?” said Catharine, really smiling this time, but with an irony she could not disguise.

      “Some counter-poison,” she murmured. “We must look into this; but no, seeing Madame de Sauve ill, it will be suspected. Indeed, I believe that the hand of God is over this man.”

      Catharine waited impatiently for the night. Madame de Sauve did not appear. At play she inquired for her, but was told that she was suffering more and more.

      All the evening she was restless, and everyone anxiously wondered what were the thoughts which could move this face usually so calm.

      At length everyone retired. Catharine had herself undressed and put to bed by her ladies-inwaiting. Then when everyone had gone to sleep in the Louvre, she rose, slipped on a long black dressing-gown, took a lamp, chose from her keys the one which unlocked the door of Madame de Sauve’s apartments, and ascended the stairs to see her maid-of-honor.

      Had Henry foreseen this visit? Was he busy in his own rooms? Was he hiding somewhere? However this may have been, the young woman was alone. Catharine opened the door cautiously, crossed the antechamber, entered the reception-room, set her lamp on a table, for a night lamp was burning near the sick woman, and glided like a shadow into the sleeping-room. Dariole in a deep armchair was sleeping near the bed of her mistress.

      This bed was entirely shut in by curtains.

      The respiration of the young woman was so light that for an instant Catharine thought she was not breathing at all.

      At length she heard a slight sigh, and with an evil joy she raised the curtain in order to see for herself the effect of the terrible poison. She trembled in advance at the sight of the livid pallor or the devouring purple of the mortal fever she hoped for. But instead of this, calm, with eyes hidden under their white lids, her mouth rosy and half open, her moist cheek pressed gently against one of her gracefully rounded arms, while the other arm, fresh and pearly, was thrown across the crimson damask which served as counterpane, the beautiful young woman lay sleeping with a smile still on her lips. No doubt some sweet dream brought the smile to her lips, and to her cheek the flush of health which nothing could disturb. Catharine could not refrain from uttering a cry of surprise which roused Dariole for a moment. The queen mother hastily stepped behind the curtains of the bed.

      Dariole opened her eyes, but overcome with sleep, without even wondering in her drowsy mind why she had wakened, the young girl dropped her heavy lids and slept again.

      Then Catharine came from behind the curtain, and glancing at the other objects in the room, saw on a table a bottle of Spanish wine, some fruit, pastry, and two glasses. Henry must have had supper with the baroness, who apparently was as well as himself. Walking on tiptoe, Catharine took up the small silver box that was partly empty. It was the same or very similar to the one she had sent to Charlotte. She removed from it a piece as large as a pearl on the point of a gold needle, returned to her room, and gave it to the little ape which Henry had brought her that evening. Attracted by the aromatic odor the animal devoured it eagerly, and turning around in his basket, went to sleep. Catharine waited a quarter of an hour.

      “With half of what he has just eaten,” said she, “my dog Brutus died, swelling up instantly. Some one has played me a trick. Is it Réné? Impossible. Then it is Henry. O fatality! It is very evident that since he is to reign he cannot die. But perhaps the poison was not strong enough. We shall see by trying steel.”

      And Catharine went to bed revolving in her mind a fresh idea which no doubt was perfected the following day; for she called her captain of the guards to her, gave him a letter, ordered him to take it to its address and to deliver it only into the hands of the one for whom it was intended. It was addressed to the Sire de Louvièrs de Maurevel, Captain of the King’s Petard Makers, Rue de la Cerisaie, near the Arsenal.

      Chapter 28.

       The Letter from Rome.

       Table of Contents

      Several days elapsed after the events we have just described, when one morning a litter escorted by several gentlemen wearing the colors of Monsieur de Guise entered the Louvre, and word was brought to the Queen of Navarre that Madame la Duchesse de Nevers begged the honor of an audience. Marguerite was receiving a call from Madame de Sauve. It was the first time the beautiful baroness had been out since her pretended illness. She knew that the queen had expressed to her husband great anxiety on account of her indisposition, which for almost a week had been court gossip, and she had come to thank her.

      Marguerite congratulated her on her convalescence and on her good fortune at having recovered so quickly from the strange malady, the seriousness of which as a daughter of France she could not fail to appreciate.

      “I trust you will attend the hunt, already once postponed,” said Marguerite. “It is planned positively for tomorrow. For winter, the weather is very mild. The sun has softened the earth, and the hunters all say that the day will be fine.”

      “But, madame,” said the baroness, “I do not know if I shall be strong enough.”

      “Bah!” exclaimed Marguerite, “make an effort; moreover, since I am one of the hunters, I have told the King to reserve a small Béarnese horse which I was to ride, but which will carry you perfectly. Have you not already heard of it?”

      “Yes, madame, but I did not know that it was meant for your majesty. Had I known that I should not have accepted it.”

      “From a feeling of pride, baroness?”

      “No, madame, from a feeling of humility, on the contrary.”

      “Then you will come?”

      “Your majesty overwhelms me with honor. I will come, since you command me.”

      At that moment Madame la Duchesse de Nevers was announced. At this name Marguerite gave a cry of such delight that the baroness understood that the two women wanted to talk together. She rose to leave.

      “Until tomorrow, then,” said СКАЧАТЬ