"Well, you are wrong, mother. Henriot is my friend, and as he said, had he been conspiring against me he had only to let the wild boar alone."
"Yes," said Catharine, "so that Monsieur le Duc d'Anjou, his personal enemy, might be King of France."
"Mother, whatever Henriot's motive in saving my life, the fact is that he saved it, and, the devil! I do not want any harm to come to him. As to Monsieur de la Mole, well, I will talk about him with my brother D'Alencon, to whom he belongs."
This was Charles IX.'s way of dismissing his mother, who withdrew endeavoring to fix her suspicions. On account of his unimportance, Monsieur de la Mole did not answer to her needs.
Returning to her rooms, Catharine found Marguerite waiting for her.
"Ah! ah!" said she, "is it you, my daughter? I sent for you last evening."
"I know it, madame, but I had gone out."
"And this morning?"
"This morning, madame, I have come to tell your majesty that you are about to do a great wrong."
"What is that?"
"You are going to have Monsieur le Comte de la Mole arrested."
"You are mistaken, my daughter, I am going to have no one arrested. It is the King, not I, who gives orders for arrests."
"Let us not quibble over the words, madame, when the circ.u.mstances are serious. Monsieur de la Mole is going to be arrested, is he not?"
"Very likely."
"Accused of having been found in the chamber of the King of Navarre last night, and of having killed two guards and wounded Monsieur de Maurevel?"
"Such indeed is the crime they impute to him."
"They impute it to him wrongly, madame," said Marguerite; "Monsieur de la Mole is not guilty."
"Monsieur de la Mole not guilty!" said Catharine, giving a start of joy, and thinking that what Marguerite was about to tell her would throw light on the subject.
"No," went on Marguerite, "he is not guilty, he cannot be so, for he was not in the king's room."
"Where was he, then?"
"In my room, madame."
"In your room?"
"Yes, in my room."
At this avowal from a daughter of France, Catharine felt like hurling a withering glance at Marguerite, but she merely crossed her arms on her lap.
"And," said she after a moment's silence, "if Monsieur de la Mole is arrested and questioned"--
"He will say where he was and with whom he was, mother," replied Marguerite, although she felt sure of the contrary.
"Since this is so, you are right, my daughter; Monsieur de la Mole must not be arrested."
Marguerite shivered. It seemed to her that there was something strange and terrible in the way her mother uttered these words; but she had nothing to say, for what she had come to ask for had been granted her.
"But," said Catharine, "if it was not Monsieur de la Mole who was in the king's room, it was some one else!"
Marguerite was silent.
"Do you know who it was, my daughter?" said Catharine.
"No, mother," said Marguerite, in an unsteady voice.
"Come, do not be half confidential."
"I repeat, madame, that I do not know," replied Marguerite again, growing pale in spite of herself.
"Well, well," said Catharine, carelessly, "we shall find out. Go now, my daughter. You may rest a.s.sured that your mother will watch over your honor."
Marguerite went out.
"Ah!" murmured Catharine, "they are in league. Henry and Marguerite are working together. While the wife is silent, the husband is blind. Ah, you are very clever, my children, and you think yourselves very strong.
But your strength is in your union and I will break you, one after the other. Besides, the day will come when Maurevel can speak or write, utter a name, or spell six letters, and then we shall know everything.
Yes, but in the meantime the guilty shall be in safe-keeping. The best thing to do would be to separate them at once."
Thereupon Catharine set out for the apartments of her son, whom she found holding a conference with D'Alencon.
"Ah! ah!" exclaimed Charles IX., frowning, "is it you, mother?"
"Why did you not say '_again_'? The word was in your mind, Charles."
"What is in my mind belongs to me, madame," said the King, in the rough tone he sometimes used even when speaking to Catharine. "What do you want of me? Tell me quickly."
"Well, you were right, my son," said Catharine to Charles, "and you, D'Alencon, were wrong."
"In what respect, madame?" asked both princes.
"It was not Monsieur de la Mole who was in the apartments of the King of Navarre."
"Ah! ah!" cried Francois, growing pale.
"Who was it, then?" asked Charles.
"We do not know yet, but we shall know when Maurevel is able to speak.
So let us drop the subject, which will soon be explained, and return to Monsieur de la Mole."
"Well, what do you want of Monsieur de la Mole, mother, since he was not in the rooms of the King of Navarre?"
"No," said Catharine, "he was not there, but he was with--the queen."