"Yes, my son," said Catharine, "I want to speak to you."
"To me?"
"To you alone."
"Well, well," said Charles, turning to his brother-in-law, "since there is no escape, the sooner the better."
"I will leave you, sire," said Henry.
"Yes, yes, leave us," replied Charles; "and as you are a Catholic, Henriot, go and hear a ma.s.s for me while I stay for the sermon."
Henry bowed and withdrew.
Charles IX. went directly to the point.
"Well, madame," said he, trying to make a joke of the affair. "By Heaven! you are waiting to scold me, are you not? I wickedly upset your little plan. Well, the devil! I could not let the man who had just saved my life be arrested and taken to the Bastille. Nor did I want to quarrel with my mother. I am a good son. Moreover," he added in a low tone, "the Lord punishes children who quarrel with their mothers. Witness my brother Francois II. Forgive me, therefore, frankly, and confess that the joke was a good one."
"Sire," said Catharine, "your Majesty is mistaken; it is not a joke."
"Yes, yes! and you will end by looking at it in that way, or the devil take me!"
"Sire, by your blunder you have baffled a project which would have led to an important discovery."
"Bah! a project. Are you embarra.s.sed because of a baffled project, mother? You can make twenty others, and in those,--well, I promise I will second you."
"Now that you will second me it is too late, for he is warned and will be on his guard."
"Well," said the King, "let us come to the point. What have you against Henriot?"
"The fact that he conspires."
"Yes, I know that this is your constant accusation; but does not every one conspire more or less in this charming royal household called the Louvre?"
"But he conspires more than any one, and he is much more dangerous than one imagines."
"A regular Lorenzino!" said Charles.
"Listen," said Catharine, becoming gloomy at mention of this name, which reminded her of one of the bloodiest catastrophes in the history of Florence. "Listen; there is a way of proving to me that I am wrong."
"What way, mother?"
"Ask Henry who was in his room last night."
"In his room last night?"
"Yes; and if he tells you"--
"Well?"
"Well, I shall be ready to admit that I have been mistaken."
"But in case it was a woman, we cannot ask."
"A woman?"
"Yes."
"A woman who killed two of your guards and perhaps mortally wounded Monsieur de Maurevel!"
"Oh! oh!" said the King, "this is serious. Was there any bloodshed?"
"Three men were stretched on the floor."
"And the one who reduced them to this state?"
"Escaped safe and sound."
"By Gog and Magog!" exclaimed Charles, "he was a brave fellow, and you are right, mother, I must know him."
"Well, I tell you in advance that you will not know him, at least not through Henry."
"But through you, mother? The man did not escape without leaving some trace, without your noticing some part of his clothing."
"Nothing was noticed except the very elegant red cloak which he wore."
"Ah! ah! a red cloak!" cried Charles. "I know only one at court remarkable enough to attract attention."
"Exactly," said Catharine.
"Well?" demanded Charles.
"Well," said Catharine, "wait for me in your rooms, my son, and I will go and see if my orders have been carried out."
Catharine left, and Charles, alone, began walking up and down distractedly, whistling a hunting-song, one hand in his doublet, the other hanging down, which his dog licked every time he paused.
As to Henry he had left his brother-in-law greatly disturbed, and instead of going along the main corridor he had taken the small private stairway, to which we have already referred more than once, and which led to the second story. Scarcely had he ascended four steps before he perceived a figure at the first landing. He stopped, raising his hand to his dagger. But he soon saw it was a woman, who took hold of his hand and said in a charming voice which he well knew:
"Thank G.o.d, sire, you are safe and sound. I was so afraid for you, but no doubt G.o.d heard my prayer."
"What has happened?" said Henry.
"You will know when you reach your rooms. You need not worry over Orthon. I have seen to him."
The young woman descended the stairs hastily, making Henry believe that she had met him by chance.
"That is strange," said Henry to himself. "What is the matter? What has happened to Orthon?"
Unfortunately, the question was not heard by Madame de Sauve, for the latter had already disappeared.