The latter was occupied with some work which seemed to be wearying her greatly. A paper covered with notes and a volume of Isocrates lay before her. She signed to La Mole to let her finish a paragraph. Then, in a few moments, she threw down her pen and invited the young man to sit beside her. La Mole was radiant. Never had he been so handsome or so light-hearted.
"Greek!" said he, glancing at the book. "A speech of Isocrates! What are you doing with that? Ah! and Latin on this sheet of paper! _Ad Sarmatiae legatos reginae Margaritae concio!_ So you are going to harangue these barbarians in Latin?"
"I must," said Marguerite, "since they do not speak French."
"But how can you write the answer before you have the speech?"
"A greater coquette than I would make you believe that this was impromptu; but I cannot deceive you, my Hyacinthe: I was told the speech in advance, and I am answering it."
"Are these amba.s.sadors about to arrive?"
"Better still, they arrived this morning."
"Does any one know it?"
"They came incognito. Their formal arrival is planned for to-morrow afternoon, I believe, and you will see," said Marguerite, with a little satisfied air not wholly free from pedantry, "that what I have done this evening is quite Ciceronian. But let us drop these important matters and speak of what has happened to you."
"To me?"
"Yes."
"What has happened to me?"
"Ah! it is in vain you pretend to be brave, you look pale."
"Then it is from having slept too much. I am humbly sorry for it."
"Come, come, let us not play the braggart; I know everything."
"Have the kindness to inform me, then, my pearl, for I know nothing."
"Well, answer me frankly. What did the queen mother ask you?"
"Had she something to say to me?"
"What! Have you not seen her?"
"No."
"Nor King Charles?"
"No."
"Nor the King of Navarre?"
"No."
"But you have seen the Duc d"Alencon?"
"Yes, I met him just now in the corridor."
"What did he say to you?"
"That he had some orders to give me between nine and ten o"clock this evening."
"Nothing else?"
"Nothing else."
"That is strange."
"But what is strange? Tell me."
"That nothing has been said to you."
"What has happened?"
"All day, unfortunately, you have been hanging over an abyss."
"I?"
"Yes, you."
"Why?"
"Well, listen. It seems that last night De Mouy was surprised in the apartments of the King of Navarre, who was to have been arrested. De Mouy killed three men, and escaped without anything about him having been recognized except the famous red cloak."
"Well?"
"Well, this red cloak, which once deceived me, has thrown others besides myself off the track. You have been suspected and even accused of this triple murder. This morning they wanted to arrest, judge, and perhaps convict you. Who knows? For in order to save yourself you would not have told where you were, would you?"
"Tell where I was?" cried La Mole; "compromise you, my beautiful queen?
Oh! you are right. I should have died singing, to spare your sweet eyes one tear."
"Alas!" said Marguerite, "my sweet eyes would have been filled with many, many tears."
"But what caused the great storm to subside?"
"Guess."
"How can I tell?"
"There was only one way to prove that you were not in the king"s room."
"And that was"--
"To tell where you were."