Part 75 (1/2)
”You are busy, madame?” said he.
”I? Why, yes, sire, I was dreaming.”
”You do well, madame. Dreaming is becoming to you. I too was dreaming; but contrary to you who seek solitude, I have come on purpose to share my dreams, with you.” Marguerite gave the king a gesture of welcome, and indicating an armchair to him, seated herself on a chair of sculptured ebony, as delicate and as strong as steel. There was an instant's silence; then Henry broke it.
”I remembered, madame,” said he, ”that my dreams as to the future corresponded with yours in so far as although separated as husband and wife, nevertheless we both desire to unite our fortune.”
”That is true, sire.”
”I think I understood you to say also that in all the plans I might make toward our mutual rising, I would find in you not only a faithful but an active ally.”
”Yes, sire, and I ask only one thing, that in beginning the work as soon as possible, you will give me the opportunity to begin also.”
”I am glad to find you of this mind, madame, and I trust that you have not for one instant doubted that I would lose sight of the plan I resolved to carry out the very day when, thanks to your brave intervention, I was almost sure of being safe.”
”Monsieur, I think that your carelessness is nothing but a mask, and I have faith not only in the predictions by the astrologers, but in your good genius as well.”
”What should you say, madame, if someone were to upset our plans and threaten to reduce us to an ordinary position?”
”I should say that I was ready to fight with you, either openly or in secret, against this someone, whoever he might be.”
”Madame,” continued Henry, ”it is possible for you, is it not, to gain immediate admission into the room of your brother, Monsieur d'Alencon?
You are in his confidence and he is very friendly to you; might I venture to beg you to find out if he is at present holding a secret conference with someone?”
Marguerite gave a start.
”With whom, monsieur?” she asked.
”With De Mouy.”
”Why?” asked Marguerite, repressing her emotion.
”Because if such is the case, madame, farewell to all our projects, or to all mine, at least.”
”Sire, speak softly,” said Marguerite, making a sign with her eyes and lips, and pointing to the cabinet.
”Oh! oh!” said Henry, ”still someone? Indeed, that cabinet is so often occupied that it makes your room uninhabitable.”
Marguerite smiled.
”Is it still Monsieur de la Mole?” asked Henry.
”No, sire, it is Monsieur de Mouy.”
”He?” cried Henry with surprise mingled with joy. ”He is not with the Duc d'Alencon, then? Oh! have him come in, that I may talk to him.”
Marguerite stepped to the cabinet, opened it, and taking De Mouy by the hand led him without preamble to the King of Navarre.
”Ah! madame,” said the young Huguenot, in a tone of reproach more sad than bitter, ”you have betrayed me in spite of your promise; that is wrong. What should you do if I were to avenge myself by saying”--
”You will not avenge yourself, De Mouy,” interrupted Henry, pressing the young man's hand, ”or at least you will listen to me first. Madame,”