Part 110 (1/2)

”Well?”

”Well, I told.”

”Whom did you tell?”

”My mother.”

”And Queen Catharine”--

”Queen Catharine knows that I love you.”

”Oh, madame! after having done so much for me, you can demand anything from your servant. Ah, Marguerite, truly, what you did was n.o.ble and beautiful. My life is yours, Marguerite.”

”I hope so, for I have s.n.a.t.c.hed it from those who wanted to take it from me. But now you are saved.”

”And by you!” cried the young man; ”by my adored queen!”

At that instant a sharp noise made them start. La Mole sprang back, filled with a vague terror. Marguerite uttered a cry, and stood with her eyes riveted on the broken gla.s.s of one of the window-panes.

Through this window a stone the size of an egg had entered and lay on the floor.

La Mole saw the broken pane, and realized the cause of the noise.

”Who dared to do this?” he cried, springing to the window.

”One moment,” said Marguerite. ”It seems to me that something is tied around the stone.”

”Yes,” said La Mole, ”it looks like a piece of paper.”

Marguerite went to the strange projectile and removed the thin sheet which, folded like a narrow band, encircled the middle of the stone.

The paper was attached to a cord, which came through the broken window.

Marguerite unfolded the letter and read.

”Unfortunate man!” she cried, holding out the paper to La Mole, who stood as pale and motionless as a statue of Terror.

With a heart filled with gloomy forebodings he read these words:

”_They are waiting for Monsieur de la Mole, with long swords, in the corridor leading to the apartments of Monsieur d'Alencon. Perhaps he would prefer to escape by this window and join Monsieur de Mouy at Mantes_”--

”Well!” asked La Mole, after reading it, ”are these swords longer than mine?”

”No, but there may be ten against one.”

”Who is the friend who has sent us this note?” asked La Mole.

Marguerite took it from the young man's hand and looked at it attentively.

”The King of Navarre's handwriting!” she cried. ”If he warns us, the danger is great. Flee, La Mole, flee, I beg you.”