Part 27 (1/2)

'The Netherlands would then know peace, Sire, and if we made successful war on Spain we might bring the Spanish Indies under the French flag. There would be an Empire an Empire in which men could wors.h.i.+p as they pleased.'

The King listened and applauded. He began to make concessions to the Huguenots. Coligny's presence at court was making itself felt; so was his influence with the King. Some Catholics who had ma.s.sacred Protestants at Rouen were executed. Coligny only had to request the King's attention, and it was his. The Catholics of Paris were uneasy, while the Guises, during a temporary absence from court, planned the downfall of the Admiral.

Catherine too watched the growing influence of Coligny over the King, but she was not disturbed. Little mad Charles was her creature; his tutors, still at their task, were her creatures; and she did not think any man even such a man as Coligny could undo so quickly all that she had done over the years. She wished to keep Coligny at court. She had no wish to kill him yet. She hated him; she was suspicious of him, and she would watch him closely, but at the moment he was more useful alive. He was, with Jeanne of Navarre, her greatest enemy; even so, his time had not yet come. For one thing, she liked the idea of this war with Spain. Coligny was a great leader, the very man to lead the French in such a war. He would be invaluable if the plan came to fulfilment. War with Spain! Victorious war! Oh, to be free from the fear of that man of gloom, the Catholic tyrant of Madrid. He was the biggest bogy in Catherine's life, although so many miles separated them. And another reason why she was not ready to get rid of Coligny yet was that she was anxious to marry Margot to Henry of Navarre. If she despatched Coligny, how could she ever lure Jeanne and her son to court? No! All honour must be done to Coligny until, through him, she had brought about this marriage of her daughter and the son of Jeanne of Navarre.

Her son Henry was being a little tiresome over this matter of Coligny. She made excuses for him. It was so difficult for him, so recently at war with the man, to have him here in the palace, to see him feted, made the confidant of the King. Catherine had neither the authority nor the influence over this spoiled and beloved son that she had over her other children. He sulked and clearly showed his enmity to the Admiral.

So she must have Henry watched; she must spy on her darling; and she had discovered that he was in secret communication with the Guises, who were now at Troyes. They made no secret of their desire for the death of the Admiral; not only was he the leader of their enemies, the Huguenots, but they looked upon him as the murderer of Francis Duke of Guise, and this would never be forgotten nor forgiven.

Catherine was hurt that her dearest Henry should be plotting with the Guises without telling her. She went to him one day and, when they were alone, very gently let him know that she was aware of this secret plan.

Henry was surprised, but he smiled and, taking her hand, kissed it.

'I had forgotten how clever you are, my mother.'

Catherine flushed with pleasure. 'My darling, if I am clever, it is due to my love for you. It is because I watch all your interests with the greatest care. What of this plot?'

'But you know.'

'Tell me. I should like you to tell me all the same.'

'There is to be a fete, a sort of masque, a sham tournament. We are going to build a fort at Saint-Cloud. I am to defend it and we are to arrange that Coligny shall lead his men to the attack. A sham battle, you see. That is how it will start; and then, suddenly, it will cease to be a sham. We shall, at a given moment, fire to kill. We shall kill them all ... every Huguenot among them. What do you say to that, my mother?'

She looked into his flushed face, at his petulant mouth. She did not like it at all, but she would not tell him so, for if she did, and this did not come to pa.s.s, he would suspect her of having had a hand in stopping it, and be quite cross with her. It was no use; she could not bear his displeasure. She would not therefore explain to him that she hated Coligny as much as he did, and that she had decided on his death but at the right time. She did not explain that if they killed him now Queen Jeanne would never come to court and bring her son so that a marriage might be arranged between him and Margot; why, if they were to wage war on Spain, this marriage of Huguenot Henry of Navarre and Catholic Margot would be the best thing possible. Catholics and Huguenots would march together against Spain. She could not risk his sulking, so she told him none of these things; she kissed him, admired his new ornaments, told him the plan was a clever one, and begged him to take care of his precious person, which was more dear to her than all else; and in the last statement at least she spoke with sincerity.

Then she went along to the King's apartment and, dismissing all his attendants and taking her usual precautions to ensure that they were not overheard, she revealed to Charles the plot which had been concocted by his brother and the Guises.

Charles was speechless in his horror. There was foam on his lips and his eyes protruded horribly.

'My darling,' said Catherine soothingly, 'there have been times when you have shown a little jealousy of your brother. You have thought that I cared more for him than for you. When such a stupid thought comes to you again, remember this: I know how you love the Admiral; I know of your admiration for this man; and so I am betraying your brother's plot to you, in order that you may foil it and save the life of your friend.'

Charles's body began to tremble and twitch.

Catherine continued: 'Now you will know, will you not? You will not think yourself neglected in future. I love all my children. Their welfare is my one concern. But you, my son, are more than my child you are my King.'

'Oh, Mother!' he said. 'Mother!' And he began to weep.

She embraced him, and he cried: 'I will have Henry arrested for this! I will have him sent to the dungeons of Vincennes.'

'No, no, my darling. You must not do that. You must be quiet and cautious. You must be clever. Let them build their fort at Saint-Cloud, and then you can give orders that it shall be destroyed, for you have decided to allow no mock battle to take place. You can say you are tired of mock battles and will think of some new masque ... something of your own arranging. You see, that is clever. That is your mother's way. And all the time they are making their preparations they will be making no fresh plans; you will therefore have the satisfaction of knowing that the Admiral is safe.'

Charles seized her hand and kissed it. Catherine sighed with relief. She had overcome that difficulty. She returned to her apartments to write a letter to Elizabeth of England, suggesting a match between the Queen and Catherine's youngest son, Hercule; and she wrote also to Jeanne of Navarre, reminding her of the match which, long ago, Henry the Second had arranged between her son and Catherine's daughter. She urged Jeanne to come to court with her daughter.

How annoying it was to have to deal with recalcitrant children!

'What!' cried the conceited little Hercule, Duke of Alencon. 'You would marry me to the Virgin of England! Why, she is old enough to be my mother.'

'And rich enough to be your wife.'

'I tell you I will have none of it.'

'You will have to be reasonable, my son.'

'Madame, I would beg of you to reconsider this matter.'

'I have already carefully considered it. Have you? Think! A crown ... the crown of England will be yours.'

He was wild, that boy, conceited, arrogant and a lover of intrigue. She took him to Amboise and kept him a prisoner there. One could not be sure what such a wilful boy would do to wreck his proposed marriage with the Virgin Queen.

'And now that I have my little frog safe at Amboise,' said Catherine to the King, 'I must set about the marrying of Margot.'

When Catherine received Margot in her apartments and told her who was to be her husband, Margot's eyes blazed with contempt and horror.

'I ... marry Henry of Navarre! That oaf!'

'My dear daughter, it is not every Princess who has the chance to become a Queen.'

'The Queen of Navarre!'

'Your great-aunt was a clever and beautiful woman the most intellectual of her day and she did not scorn the t.i.tle.'

'Nevertheless, I scorn it.'

'You will grow used to the idea.'

'I never shall.'

'When you renew your acquaintance with your old friend, you will grow fond of him.'

'He was never my friend, and I was never fond of him. I never could be. I dislike him. He is a coa.r.s.e philanderer.'

'My dear daughter! Then you will, I know, have some tastes in common.'

Margot steeled herself to conquer her fear of her mother and to answer boldly: 'I was prevented from marrying the only man I wished to marry. I therefore claim the right to choose my own husband.'

'You are a fool,' said Catherine. 'Think not that I will endure any of your tantrums.'

'I am a Catholic. How could I marry a Huguenot?'

'It may be that we shall make a Catholic of him.'

'I thought I was to marry him because he is a Huguenot, so that the Huguenots might fight with the Catholics against Spain.'

Catherine sighed. 'My daughter, the policy of a country may change daily. What applies to-day does not necessarily apply tomorrow. How do I know whether Henry of Navarre will remain Huguenot or Catholic? How do I know what France will require of him?'

'I hate Henry of Navarre.'

'You talk like a fool,' said Catherine, and forthwith dismissed her daughter. She had no serious qualms about Margot's ultimate obedience.

Margot went to her room and lay on her bed, dry-eyed and full of wretchedness.