"Yes, the queen is religious."
"Religious! But there is no ma.s.s at the palace, is there?"
"No ma.s.s; do you take us for heathens? Learn, monsieur, that the king goes to church with his gentlemen, and the queen hears ma.s.s in her private chapel."
"The queen?"
"Yes."
"Queen Marguerite?"
"Yes; and I, unworthy as I am, received two crowns for officiating there; I even preached a very good sermon on the text, "G.o.d has separated the wheat from the chaff." It is in the Bible, "G.o.d will separate," but as it is a long time since that was written, I supposed that the thing was done."
"And the king?"
"He heard it, and applauded."
"I must add," said the officer, "that they do something else than hear ma.s.s at the palace; they give good dinners--and the promenades! I do not believe in any place in France there are more mustaches shown than in the promenades at Nerac."
Chicot knew Queen Marguerite well, and he knew that if she was blind to these love affairs, it was when she had some motive for placing a bandage over her eyes.
"Ventre de biche!" said he, "these alleys of cypresses, and 3,000 feet of shade, make me feel uncomfortable. I am coming from Paris to tell the truth at Nerac, where they have such deep shade, that women do not see their husbands walking with other women. Corbiou! they will be ready to kill me for troubling so many charming promenades. Happily I know the king is a philosopher, and I trust in that. Besides, I am an amba.s.sador, and sacred."
Chicot entered Nerac in the evening, just at the time of the promenades which occupied the king so much. Chicot could see the simplicity of the royal manners by the ease with which he obtained an audience. A valet opened the door of a rustic-looking apartment bordered with flowers, above which was the king"s antechamber and sitting-room. An officer or page ran to find the king, wherever he might be when any one wished for an audience, and he always came at the first invitation. Chicot was pleased with this; he judged the king to be open and candid, and he thought so still more when he saw the king coming up a winding walk bordered with laurels and roses, an old hat on his head, and dressed in a dark green doublet and gray boots, and with a cup and ball in his hand. He looked gay and happy, as though care never came near him.
"Who wants me?" said he to the page.
"A man who looks to me half courtier, half soldier."
Chicot heard these words, and advanced.
"It is I, sire."
"What! M. Chicot in Navarre! Ventre St. Gris! welcome, dear M. Chicot!"
"A thousand thanks, sire."
"Quite well? Ah, parbleu! we will drink together, I am quite delighted.
Chicot, sit down there." And he pointed to a gra.s.s bank.
"Oh no, sire!"
"Have you come 200 leagues for me to leave you standing? No, no; sit down; one cannot talk standing."
"But, sire, respect--"
"Respect! here in Navarre! You are mad, my poor Chicot."
"No, sire, I am not mad, but I am an amba.s.sador."
A slight frown contracted Henri"s brow, but disappeared at once.
"Amba.s.sador, from whom?"
"From Henri III. I come from Paris and the Louvre, sire."
"Oh! that is different. Come with me," said the king, rising, with a sigh.
"Page, take wine up to my room. Come, Chicot, I will conduct you."
Chicot followed the king, thinking, "How disagreeable! to come and trouble this honest man in his peace and his ignorance. Bah! he will be philosophical."
CHAPTER XLIV.
HOW THE KING OF NAVARRE GUESSES THAT "TURENNIUS" MEANS TURENNE, AND "MARGOTA" MARGOT.
The king of Navarre"s room was not very sumptuous, for he was not rich, and did not waste the little he had. It was large, and, with his bedroom, occupied all the right wing of the castle. It was well, though not royally furnished, and had a magnificent view over meadows and rivers. Great trees, willows, and planes hid the course of the stream every here and there, which glanced between, golden in the sunlight, or silver by that of the moon. This beautiful panorama was terminated by a range of hills, which looked violet in the evening light. The windows on the other side looked on to the court of the castle.
All these natural beauties interested Chicot less than the arrangements of the room, which was the ordinary sitting-room of Henri.
The king seated himself, with his constant smile, in a great armchair of leather with gilt nails, and Chicot, at his command, sat down on a stool similar in material. Henri looked at him smilingly, but with curiosity.
"You will think I am very curious, dear M. Chicot," began the king, "but I cannot help it. I have so long looked on you as dead, that in spite of the pleasure your resurrection causes me, I can hardly realize the idea.
Why did you so suddenly disappear from this world?"
"Oh, sire!" said Chicot, with his usual freedom, "you disappeared from Vincennes. Every one eclipses himself according to his need."
"I recognize by your ready wit that it is not to your ghost I am speaking." Then, more seriously, "But now we must leave wit and speak of business."
"If it does not too much fatigue your majesty, I am ready."
Henri"s eyes kindled.
"Fatigue me! It is true I grow rusty here. I have to-day exercised my body much, but my mind little."
"Sire, I am glad of that; for, amba.s.sador from a king, your relation and friend, I have a delicate commission to execute with your majesty."
"Speak quickly--you pique my curiosity."
"Sire--"
"First, your letters of credit. I know it is needless, since you are the amba.s.sador: but I must do my duty as king."
"Sire, I ask your majesty"s pardon; but all the letters of credit that I had I have drowned in rivers, or scattered in the air."