Part 127 (1/2)

CHAPTER XLVI.

THE INN OF LA BELLE eTOILE.

Two hours after the event we have described, no trace of which remained on Catharine's face, Madame de Sauve, having finished her work for the queen, returned to her own rooms. Henry followed her, and learning from Dariole that Orthon had been there he went directly to the mirror and found the note.

It was, as we have said, couched in these terms:

”_This evening at ten o'clock, Rue de l'Arbre Sec, Hotel de la Belle etoile. If you come send no reply; otherwise send back NO by the bearer._”

There was no address.

”Henry will not fail to keep the appointment,” said Catharine, ”for even had he not wished to do so there is no longer a messenger to take back his answer.”

Catharine was not mistaken.

Henry inquired for Orthon. Dariole said that he had gone out with the queen mother; but as the note had been found in its place, and as the poor boy was known to be incapable of treason, Henry felt no anxiety.

He dined as usual at the table of the King, who joked him greatly on the mistakes he had made while hawking that morning.

Henry made excuses for himself, saying that he came from the mountains and not the plain, but he promised Charles to study the art. Catharine was charming, and on leaving the table begged Marguerite to pa.s.s the evening with her.

At eight o'clock Henry took two attendants, left by the Porte Saint Honore, made a long circuit, returned by the Tour de Bois, and crossing the Seine at the ferry of Nesle, rode up the Rue Saint Jacques, where he dismissed his gentlemen, as if he were going to keep some love appointment. At the corner of the Rue des Mathurins he found a man on horseback, wrapped in a cloak. He approached him.

”Mantes!” said the man.

”Pau!” replied the king.

The man at once dismounted. Henry put on his splashed mantle, mounted the horse, which was covered with foam, returned by the Rue de la Harpe, crossed the Pont Saint Michel, pa.s.sed down the Rue Barthelemy, again crossed the river at the Pont aux Meuniers, descended the quays, took the Rue de l'Arbre Sec, and knocked at the door of Maitre la Huriere's.

La Mole was in a room writing a long love-letter--to whom may easily be imagined.

Coconnas was in the kitchen with La Huriere, watching half a dozen partridges roasting, and disputing with his friend the host as to when they should be removed from the spit. At this moment Henry knocked.

Gregoire opened the door and led the horse to the stable, while the traveller entered, stamping on the floor as if to warm his benumbed feet.

”Maitre La Huriere,” said La Mole, as he continued to write, ”here is a gentleman asking for you.”

La Huriere advanced, looked at Henry from head to foot, and as his thick cloth mantle did not inspire the innkeeper with very great veneration:

”Who are you?” he asked.

”Well, by Heaven!” said Henry, pointing to La Mole, ”monsieur has just told you; I am a gentleman from Gascony come to court.”

”What do you want?”

”A room and supper.”

”Humph!” said La Huriere, ”have you a lackey?”