Part 4 (1/2)
”I think nothing, Madame; I hope, and I am anxious to know that my hope is well founded. It is quite certain that our marriage is merely a pretext or a snare.”
Marguerite started, for perhaps the same thought had occurred to her own mind.
”Now, then, which of the two?” continued Henri de Navarre. ”The king hates me; the Duc d'Anjou hates me; the Duc d'Alencon hates me; Catherine de Medicis hated my mother too much not to hate me.”
”Oh, Monsieur, what are you saying?”
”The truth, madame,” replied the king; ”and in order that it may not be supposed that I am deceived as to Monsieur de Mouy's a.s.sa.s.sination and the poisoning of my mother, I wish that some one were here who could hear me.”
”Oh, sire,” replied Marguerite, with an air as calm and smiling as she could a.s.sume, ”you know very well that there is no person here but you and myself.”
”It is for that very reason that I thus give vent to my thoughts; this it is that emboldens me to declare that I am not deceived by the caresses showered on me by the House of France or the House of Lorraine.”
”Sire, sire!” exclaimed Marguerite.
”Well, what is it, _ma mie_?” inquired Henry, smiling in his turn.
”Why, sire, such remarks are very dangerous.”
”Not when we are alone,” observed the king. ”I was saying”--
Marguerite was evidently distressed; she desired to stop every word the king uttered, but he continued, with his apparent good nature:
”I was telling you that I was threatened on all sides: threatened by the King, threatened by the Duc d'Alencon, threatened by the Duc d'Anjou, threatened by the queen mother, threatened by the Duc de Guise, by the Duc de Mayenne, by the Cardinal de Lorraine--threatened, in fact, by every one. One feels that instinctively, as you know, madame. Well, against all these threats, which must soon become attacks, I can defend myself by your aid, for you are beloved by all the persons who detest me.”
”I?” said Marguerite.
”Yes, you,” replied Henry, with the utmost ease of manner; ”yes, you are beloved by King Charles, you are beloved” (he laid strong emphasis on the word) ”by the Duc d'Alencon, you are beloved by Queen Catharine, and you are beloved by the Duc de Guise.”
”Sire!” murmured Marguerite.
”Yes; and what is there astonis.h.i.+ng in the fact that every one loves you? All I have mentioned are your brothers or relatives. To love one's brothers and relatives is to live according to G.o.d's heart.”
”But what, then,” asked Marguerite, greatly overcome, ”what do you mean?”
”What I have just said, that if you will be--I do not mean my love--but my ally, I can brave everything; while, on the other hand, if you become my enemy, I am lost.”
”Oh, your enemy!--never, sir!” exclaimed Marguerite.
”And my love--never either?”
”Perhaps”--
”And my ally?”
”Most decidedly.”
And Marguerite turned round and offered her hand to the king.
Henry took it, kissed it gallantly, and retaining it in his own, more from a desire of investigation than from any sentiment of tenderness, said: