Part 46 (1/2)
”_Eros, Cupido, Amor._”
CHAPTER XV.
WHAT WOMAN WILLS, G.o.d WILLS.
Marguerite was not mistaken: the wrath distilled in the depths of Catharine's heart at sight of this comedy, the intrigue of which she followed without being in any way able to change its denouement, required a victim. So instead of going directly to her own room the queen mother proceeded to that of her lady in waiting.
Madame de Sauve was in expectation of two visits--one she hoped to receive from Henry, and the other she feared was in store for her from the queen mother. As she lay in her bed only partially undressed, while Dariole kept watch in the antechamber, she heard a key turn in the lock, and then slowly approaching footsteps which would have seemed heavy if they had not been deadened by thick rugs. She did not recognize Henry's light, eager step; she suspected that Dariole was prevented from coming to warn her, and so leaning on her elbow she waited with eye and ear alert. The portiere was lifted and the trembling young woman saw Catharine de Medicis appear.
Catharine seemed calm; but Madame de Sauve, accustomed for two years to study her, well knew what dark designs, and possibly cruel vengeance, might be concealed beneath that apparent calm.
At sight of Catharine, Madame de Sauve was about to spring from her bed, but Catharine signed to her to stay where she was; and poor Charlotte was fixed to the spot, inwardly endeavoring to collect all the forces of her soul to endure the storm which was silently gathering.
”Did you convey the key to the King of Navarre?” inquired Catharine, without the tone of her voice betraying any change; and yet as she spoke her lips grew paler and paler.
”I did, madame,” answered Charlotte, in a voice which she vainly tried to make as firm and a.s.sured as Catherine's was.
”And have you seen him?”
”Who?” asked Madame de Sauve.
”The King of Navarre.”
”No, madame; but I am expecting him, and when I heard the key turn in the lock, I firmly believed it was he.”
At this answer, which indicated either perfect confidence or deep dissimulation on Madame de Sauve's part, Catharine could not repress a slight s.h.i.+ver. She clinched her short plump hand.
”And yet you knew perfectly well,” said she with her evil smile, ”you knew perfectly well, Carlotta, that the King of Navarre would not come to-night.”
”I, madame? I knew that?” exclaimed Charlotte, with a tone of surprise perfectly well a.s.sumed.
”Yes, you knew it!”
”If he does not come, he must be dead!” replied the young woman, shuddering at the mere supposition.
What gave Charlotte the courage to lie so was the certainty that she would suffer from a terrible vengeance if her little treason should be discovered.
”But did you not write to the king, Carlotta mia?” inquired Catharine, with the same cruel and silent laugh.
”No, madame,” answered Charlotte, with well-a.s.sumed navete, ”I cannot recollect receiving your majesty's commands to do so.”
A short silence followed, during which Catharine continued to gaze on Madame de Sauve as the serpent looks at the bird it wishes to fascinate.
”You think you are pretty,” said Catharine, ”you think you are clever, do you not?”
”No, madame,” answered Charlotte; ”I only know that sometimes your majesty has been graciously pleased to commend both my personal attractions and address.”
”Well, then,” said Catharine, growing eager and animated, ”you were mistaken if you think so, and I lied when I told you so; you are a simpleton and hideous compared to my daughter Margot.”