"Two are dead, and the third is dying."
"Which is the third?"--"Quelus."
"Where is he?"--"At the Hotel Boissy."
The king said no more, but rushed from the room.
St. Luc had taken Diana home to his wife, and this had kept him from appearing sooner at the Louvre. Jeanne pa.s.sed three days and nights watching her through the most frightful delirium.
On the fourth day, Jeaune, overcome by fatigue, went to take a little rest: two hours after, when she returned, Diana was gone.
Quelus died at the Hotel Boissy, in the king"s arms, after lingering for thirty days.
Henri was inconsolable. He raised three magnificent tombs for his friends, on which their effigies were sculptured, life-size, in marble. He had innumerable ma.s.ses said for them, and prayed for their souls himself night and morning. For three months Chicot never left his master. In September, Chicot received the following letter, dated from the Priory of Beaume:
"DEAR M. CHICOT--The air is soft in this place, and the vintage promises to be good this year. They say that the king, whose life I saved, still grieves much. Bring him to the priory, dear M. Chicot; we will give him wine of 1550, which I have discovered in my cellar, and which is enough to make one forget the greatest grief; for I find in the Holy Writ these words, "Good wine rejoices the heart of man." It is in Latin. I will show it you. Come, then, dear M. Chicot; come, with the king, M. d"Epernon, and M.
de St. Luc, and we will fatten them all.
"The reverend prior,
"DOM GORENFLOT,
"Your humble servant and friend.
"P.S.--Tell the king that I have not yet had time to pray for the souls of his friends; but when the vintage is over; I shall not fail to do so."
"Amen," said Chicot; "here are poor devils well recommended to Heaven."
THE END