Part 175 (2/2)
”Of women?” said the King of Navarre to provoke an explanation.
”Yes, Henry,” said Charles, ”my mother wishes the regency until my brother returns from Poland. But mind what I tell you, he will not come back.”
”Why not?” cried Henry, whose heart gave a joyful leap.
”No, he cannot return,” continued Charles, ”because his subjects will not let him leave.”
”But,” said Henry, ”do you not suppose, brother, that the queen mother has already written to him?”
”Yes, but Nancey stopped the courier at Chateau Thierry, and brought me the letter, in which she said I was to die. I wrote to Varsovia myself, my letter reached there, I am sure, and my brother will be watched. So, in all probability, Henry, the throne will be vacant.”
A second sound louder than the first was heard in the alcove.
”She is surely there,” thought Henry, ”and is listening.”
Charles heard nothing.
”Now,” he continued, ”I am dying without male heir.” Then he stopped. A sweet thought seemed to light up his face, and, laying his hand on the King of Navarre's shoulder:
”Alas!” said he, ”do you remember, Henriot, the poor little boy I showed you one evening sleeping in his silken cradle, watched over by an angel?
Alas! Henriot, they will kill him!”
”Oh, sire!” cried Henry, whose eyes filled with tears, ”I swear to you that I will watch over him all the days and nights of my life. Command me, my King.”
”Thanks, Henriot, thanks!” said Charles, with a show of feeling unusual in him, but which the situation had roused, ”I accept your promise. Do not make him a king,--fortunately he was not born for a throne,--but make him happy. I have left him an independent fortune. Let him inherit his mother's n.o.bility, that of the heart. Perhaps it would be better for him if he were to enter the church. He would inspire less fear. Oh! it seems to me that I should die, if not happy, at least calm, if I had the kisses of the child and the sweet face of its mother to console me.”
”Sire, could you not send for them?”
”Ah, poor wretches! They would never be allowed to leave the Louvre!
Such is the condition of kings, Henriot. They can neither live nor die as they please. But since you promise I am more resigned.”
Henry reflected.
”Yes, no doubt, my King. I have promised, but can I keep my word?”
”What do you mean?”
”Shall I not be persecuted, and threatened like him, even more than him?
For I am a man, and he is only a child.”
”You are mistaken,” said Charles; ”after my death you shall be great and powerful. Here is what will make you so.”
And the King drew a parchment from under the pillow.
”See!” said he.
<script>