The Forty-Five Guardsmen. Dumas Alexandre

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      The voice had been heard above everything, but suddenly it ceased.

      "Stop, stop," cried Catherine, "let him speak."

      But it was too late; the head of Salcede fell helplessly on one side, he glanced once more to where he had seen the page, and then expired. Tanchon gave some rapid orders to his archers, who plunged into the crowd in the direction indicated by Salcede's glance.

      "I am discovered!" said the page to Ernanton. "For pity's sake, aid me! they come, they come!"

      "What do you want?"

      "To fly! Do you not see that it is me they want?"

      "But who are you, then?"

      "A woman. Oh, save me! protect me!"

      Ernanton turned pale; but generosity triumphed over fear. He placed his protégée before him, opened a path with blows, and pushed her toward the corner of the Rue du Mouton, toward an open door. Into this door she entered; and she seemed to have been expected, for it closed behind her. Ernanton had not even time to ask her name, or where he should find her again; but in disappearing she had made a sign full of promise.

      Meanwhile, Catherine was standing up in her place, full of rage.

      "My son," said she, at last, "you would do well to change your executioner; he is a leaguer."

      "What do you mean, mother?"

      "Salcede suffered only one draw, and he is dead."

      "Because he was too sensible to pain."

      "No; but because he has been strangled with a fine cord underneath the scaffold, just as he was about to accuse those who let him die. Let a doctor examine him, and I am certain that he will find round his neck the circle that the cord has left."

      "You are right!" cried Henri, with flashing eyes; "my cousin of Guise is better served than I am!"

      "Hush, my son – no éclat; we shall only be laughed at, for once more we have missed our aim."

      "Joyeuse did well to go and amuse himself elsewhere," said the king; "one can reckon on nothing in this world – not even on punishments. Come, ladies, let us go."

      CHAPTER VI.

      THE BROTHERS

      MM. De Joyeuse had, as we have seen, left this scene, and were walking side by side in the streets generally so populous but now deserted, for every one was in the Place de Greve. Henri seemed preoccupied and sad, and Anne was unquiet on account of his brother. He was the first to speak.

      "Well, Henri," said he, "where are you taking me?"

      "I take you nowhere, brother; I was only walking before you. Do you wish to go anywhere?"

      "Do you?"

      "Oh! I do not care where I go."

      "Yet you go somewhere every evening, for you always go out at the same hour and return late at night."

      "Are you questioning me, brother?" said Henri, with gentleness.

      "Certainly not; let each keep his own secrets if he wishes to do so."

      "If you wish it, brother, I will have no secrets from you."

      "Will you not, Henri?"

      "No; are you not my elder brother and friend?"

      "Oh! I thought you had secrets from me, who am only a poor layman. I thought you confessed to our learned brother, that pillar of theology, that light of the Church, who will be a cardinal some day, and that you obtained absolution from him, and perhaps, at the same time, advice."

      Henri took his brother's hand affectionately. "You are more than a confessor to me, my dear Anne – more than a father; you are my friend."

      "Then, my friend, why, from so gay as you used to be, have I seen you become sad? and why, instead of going out by day, do you only go out at night?"

      "My brother, I am not sad."

      "What, then?"

      "In love."

      "Good! And this preoccupation?"

      "Is because I am always thinking of my love."

      "And you sigh in saying that?"

      "Yes."

      "You sigh? – you, Henri, comte de Bouchage? – you, the brother of Joyeuse? – you, whom some people call the third king in France? You know M. de Guise is the second, if not the first; but you, rich and handsome, who will be peer and duke on the first occasion, are in love, and you sigh! – you, whose device is 'hilariter.'"

      "My dear Anne, I have never reckoned the gifts of fortune, past and to come, as things to constitute happiness; I have no ambitions."

      "That is to say, you have not at present."

      "At all events, not for the things you speak of."

      "Not just now, perhaps, but later you will return to them."

      "Never, brother; I desire nothing – I want nothing."

      "You are wrong. When one is called 'Joyeuse,' one of the best names in France, when one has a brother a king's favorite, one desires everything, and has everything."

      Henri hung his blond head sadly.

      "Come," continued Anne, "we are quite alone here; have you anything to tell me?"

      "Nothing, but that I love."

      "Diable! that is not a very serious affair; I also am in love."

      "Not like me, brother."

      "I, also, think sometimes of my mistress."

      "Yes, but not always."

      "I, also, have annoyances."

      "Yes; but you also have joys, for you are loved."

      "True; but I have obstacles. They exact from me so much mystery."

      "They exact! If your mistress exacts, she loves you."

      "Yes, she loves me and M. de Mayenne – or rather only me, for she would give up Mayenne at once if she was not afraid he would kill her; it is his habit to kill women, you know. I am obliged to be constantly on my guard, but I do not grow sad on that account; I continue to laugh – at least, sometimes. Tell me, Henri, is your lady beautiful?"

      "Alas! she is not mine."

      "Is she beautiful? Her name?"

      "I do not know it."

      "Come, now."

      "On my honor."

      "My friend, I begin to think it is more dangerous than I thought; it is not sadness, but madness."

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