QUEEN MARGOT (Historical Novel). Alexandre Dumas

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СКАЧАТЬ and advancing to the chief of the cavaliers:

      “Sir,” said he, “I am told you are M. de Mouy.”

      “Yes, sir,” returned the officer, courteously.

      “Your name, well known among those of our faith, emboldens me to address you, sir, to ask a special favor.”

      “What may that be, sir — but first whom have I the honor of addressing?”

      “The Comte Lerac de la Mole.”

      The young men bowed to each other.

      “What can I do for you, sir?” asked De Mouy.

      “Sir, I am just arrived from Aix, and bring a letter from M. d’Auriac, Governor of Provence. This letter is directed to the King of Navarre and contains important and pressing news. How can I give it to him? How can I enter the Louvre?”

      “Nothing is easier than to enter the Louvre, sir,” replied De Mouy; “but I fear the King of Navarre will be too busy to see you at this hour. However, if you please, I will take you to his apartments, and then you must manage for yourself.”

      “A thousand thanks!”

      “Come, then,” said De Mouy.

      De Mouy dismounted, threw the reins to his lackey, stepped toward the wicket, passed the sentinel, conducted La Mole into the château, and, opening the door leading to the king’s apartments:

      “Enter, and inquire for yourself, sir,” said he.

      And saluting La Mole, he retired.

      La Mole, left alone, looked round.

      The ante-room was vacant. One of the inner doors was open. He advanced a few paces and found himself in a passage.

      He knocked and spoke, but no one answered. The profoundest silence reigned in this part of the Louvre.

      “What was told me about the stern etiquette of this place?” said he to himself. “One may come and go in this palace as if it were a public place.”

      Then he called again, but without obtaining any better result than before.

      “Well, let us walk straight on,” thought he, “I must meet some one,” and he proceeded down the corridor, which grew darker and darker.

      Suddenly the door opposite that by which he had entered opened, and two pages appeared, lighting a lady of noble bearing and exquisite beauty.

      The glare of the torches fell full on La Mole, who stood motionless.

      The lady stopped also.

      “What do you want, sir?” said she, in a voice which fell upon his ears like exquisite music.

      “Oh, madame,” said La Mole, casting down his eyes, “pardon me; I have just parted from M. de Mouy, who was so good as to conduct me here, and I wish to see the King of Navarre.”

      “His majesty is not here, sir; he is with his brother-inlaw. But, in his absence, could you not say to the queen”—

      “Oh, yes, madame,” returned La Mole, “if I could obtain audience of her.”

      “You have it already, sir.”

      “What?” cried La Mole.

      “I am the Queen of Navarre.”

      La Mole made such a hasty movement of surprise and alarm that it caused the queen to smile.

      “Speak, sir,” said Marguerite, “but speak quickly, for the queen mother is waiting for me.”

      “Oh, madame, if the queen mother is waiting for you,” said La Mole, “suffer me to leave you, for just now it would be impossible for me to speak to you. I am incapable of collecting my ideas. The sight of you has dazzled me. I no longer think, I can only admire.”

      Marguerite advanced graciously toward the handsome young man, who, without knowing it, was acting like a finished courtier.

      “Recover yourself, sir,” said she; “I will wait and they will wait for me.”

      “Pardon me, madame,” said La Mole, “if I did not salute your majesty at first with all the respect which you have a right to expect from one of your humblest servants, but”—

      “You took me for one of my ladies?” said Marguerite.

      “No, madame; but for the shade of the beautiful Diane de Poitiers, who is said to haunt the Louvre.”

      “Come, sir,” said Marguerite, “I see you will make your fortune at court; you said you had a letter for the king, it was not needed, but no matter! Where is it? I will give it to him — only make haste, I beg of you.”

      In a twinkling La Mole threw open his doublet, and drew from his breast a letter enveloped in silk.

      Marguerite took the letter, and glanced at the writing.

      “Are you not Monsieur de la Mole?” asked she.

      “Yes, madame. Oh, mon Dieu! Can I hope my name is known to your majesty?”

      “I have heard the king, my husband, and the Duc d’Alençon, my brother, speak of you. I know they expect you.”

      And in her corsage, glittering with embroidery and diamonds, she slipped the letter which had just come from the young man’s doublet and was still warm from the vital heat of his body. La Mole eagerly watched Marguerite’s every movement.

      “Now, sir,” said she, “descend to the gallery below, and wait until some one comes to you from the King of Navarre or the Duc d’Alençon. One of my pages will show you the way.”

      And Marguerite, as she said these words, went on her way. La Mole drew himself up close to the wall. But the passage was so narrow and the Queen of Navarre’s farthingale was so voluminous that her silken gown brushed against the young man’s clothes, while a penetrating perfume hovered where she passed.

      La Mole trembled all over and, feeling that he was in danger of falling, he tried to find a support against the wall.

      Marguerite disappeared like a vision.

      “Are you coming, sir?” asked the page who was to conduct La Mole to the lower gallery.

      “Oh, yes — yes!” cried La Mole, joyfully; for as the page led him the same way by which Marguerite had gone, he hoped that by making haste he might see her again.

      And in truth, as he reached the top of the staircase, he perceived her below; and whether she heard his step or looked round by chance, Marguerite raised her head, and La Mole saw her a second time.

      “Oh,” said he, as he followed the page, “she is not a mortal — she is a goddess, and as Vergilius Maro says: ‘Et vera incessu patuit dea.’”

      “Well?” asked the СКАЧАТЬ