Part 28 (1/2)

'If there should be any trouble with the Pope,' said Charles, 'we will get Margot married en pleine preche.'

And so, at last, Jeanne of Navarre signed the marriage contract between her son and the Princess Margot; and thus was Catherine free to go ahead with her plans.

The court had moved to Paris, and with it went Jeanne of Navarre.

'There must be preparations for the wedding,' said Catherine, 'and you will wish to take advantage of all that Paris can offer you. I myself will take you to my best dressmakers, my own glove-makers, my parfumeurs.'

Jeanne suppressed misgivings and went. Coligny a.s.sured her that this was a new dawn for the Huguenot Party, and that she could trust her son to adhere to his faith. She must realise that, pleasure-loving as he was, he was not weak as his father had been.

Catherine was delighted to be in her beloved Paris. It was exhilarating to slip out through the secret pa.s.sage, a shawl about her head, and enter the shop on the quay opposite the Louvre.

Rene at once recognised her. He was delighted that it was to him that she came. For so long he had been the rival of the Ruggieri brothers.

She asked to be taken into his secret chamber, and thither she was conducted immediately.

'Monsieur Rene,' she said, throwing off her shawl and putting on her regal dignity, 'I have a commission for you. You must let me know if you are willing to undertake it.'

'My greatest desire, Madame,' he said, 'is to serve your Majesty.'

'Wait before you commit yourself, my friend. The person involved is of very high rank.' She scrutinised the face of the man, but he did not flinch. She went on: 'Her death must be brought about swiftly and subtly. There may be suspicion, however cleverly it is performed. There may be an autopsy. I would not wish you to undertake this until you have considered all that it may mean. I have come to you because I believe you to be more fearless than your fellows.'

'Madame, I shall be fearless in your Majesty's service.'

'How do your experiments go, Monsieur Rene?'

'Very well, Madame. I have a substance which can be inhaled through the nose or through the pores of the skin.'

'That is not so very novel.'

'But a substance, your Majesty, which, a few days after it is inhaled, will leave no deposit in the victim's body, a substance which will aggravate any disease from which the victim may be suffering, so that if the body is opened after death, it would appear that he, or she, has died of this disease.'

'That is interesting, Monsieur Rene. And if the victim were not suffering from some disease, what then?'

'Death would come, but it would be impossible for any to find out the cause.'

'That in itself would arouse suspicion. Tell me, have you tested the reliability of the substance?'

'I have buried four serving wenches, all of whom I treated with this substance.'

'And how long was it before death came?'

'A matter of days. Except in one case, Madame. She was suffering from an ulcer. Her death was immediate.'

'So you are sure you can rely on this substance?'

'Absolutely, Madame.'

'It seems similar to your aqua Tofana.'

'Similar, Madame. But this substance leaves no trace.'

'Tell me how you have procured such a substance. You know these matters interest me.'

'It is a complicated process, Madame, but similar to that which produces our venin de c.r.a.paud.'

'a.r.s.enic is one of the most dangerous of poisons, preserving the body as it does. If there should be an opening of the body after death ...'

'But this, I would tell your Majesty, does not contain a.r.s.enic. It is similar to the venin de c.r.a.paud only in its early stages of production. I have fed a.r.s.enic to toads and when the creatures are dead, after a certain period have distilled the juices of the body. These contain the virus of a.r.s.enic and, of course, the poisons of decomposition. Then I eliminate the a.r.s.enic. Nor is that all. But the process of the details would weary you, and it is complicated and not easy to explain.'

Catherine laughed. 'Keep your secrets, Monsieur Rene. I shall respect them. Why should others reap the benefit of your experiments?'

'If you would care to step into my laboratory, I would show your Majesty what I have prepared of this substance.'

Catherine rose and followed him through several dark pa.s.sages until they came to an underground cellar. It was warm in here because of the great fire which burned in the stove, the smoke of which fire escaped through a pipe in the wall. On the benches were skeletons of animals, and on the walls had been drawn cabalistic signs. Catherine was well acquainted with the tools of the trade of such men as Rene and the Ruggieri. Her eyes glowed as she looked at the bottles which contained liquids of all colours, and the boxes of mysterious powders.

Rene took a phial of liquid of a sickly green colour which he showed her.

'This, Madame, is the most valuable and deadly poison that has yet been made. In this it is possible to steep some article a glove, a ruff, a trinket; the article absorbs the liquid immediately and is almost at once dry. The poison will remain in the article until it is placed in a certain temperature. The heat of the body, for instance, would draw the poison out in the form of vapour; it would be absorbed into the body through the pores of the skin.'

Catherine nodded. This was no great surprise. The men of her country were the cleverest poisoners in the world. They guarded their secrets jealously, and it was said that some carried them with them to the grave because they could not bear to share them. No matter what qualities a new poison was reputed to possess, Catherine was prepared to believe in it; she had seen enough in her lifetime to know that these sorcerers from her native land could manufacture poisons, the action of which would seem incredible to the rest of the world.

'It is good that you have such confidence, Monsieur Rene,' she said, 'for when an eminent person dies, there is much suspicion, and if there should be an autopsy and poison were discovered well, it might be remembered that the lady called at your shop.'

'That is so, Madame. But I believe in my work. I have tested this substance. Moreover, my wish is to serve your Majesty with my life if need be.'

Catherine smiled. 'You shall not be forgotten, Monsieur Rene. Now, if this lady comes here to buy gloves, a ruff or a trinket, you could take what she selects and treat it while she is here . . and let her go away with it?'

'I could, Madame.'

'Gloves would be simplest. Now listen. She shall come to buy gloves. You will show her of your best and, when she has selected them, you will treat them. In order to ensure that she wears them immediately, let those she is wearing when she arrives be soiled in some way. You have no doubt means here of doing this. Let her leave them for you to repair, and let her go away wearing the new gloves that you have treated. I would not wish the gloves to fall into other hands.'

'It shall be as you command, Madame.'

'That is well. And I should like a little of that ... substance ... for my own closet.'

'Madame, it would not be safe. It is not as yet in the perfect form for keeping. When I can trust it, all my stock is at your Majesty's disposal.'

Catherine smiled faintly. She understood Rene. He was not prepared to lose his sole right to such a valuable discovery.

She came out into the streets, drawing her shawl about her. So far, so good.

The Queen of Navarre lay sick in her room. She could not understand the sudden faintness which had come over her. She had had a pleasant enough afternoon, choosing some clothes she would need for the ceremonies which would follow the wedding. She was not interested in fine clothes, but she did not wish to appear dowdy among the Parisians, who she knew would be gorgeously apparelled.

She had bought a new ruff and new gloves. Catherine had been helpful, telling her where to go, accompanying her to some of the places. And finally she had gone to the glove-maker and parfumeur on the quay opposite the Louvre, and there she had bought a pair of those exquisite gloves such as were now worn at court. She had put them on there and then and come back to the palace wearing them, because of some slight accident to her old pair.

And then had come this strange faintness, this nausea. It had been necessary to take to her bed, for there was a violent pain in her chest. She was unable to attend the banquet that day; and the night that followed was pa.s.sed in a fever of restlessness; a terrible la.s.situde had taken possession of her limbs, and by morning she had lost the power of them. She could scarcely breathe, and the pain in her chest had become an agony.

Her apartments in the Hotel de Conde were filled with anxious men and women of the Huguenot Faith. The greatest physicians in the country were at her bedside, but none could discover the strange nature of her illness. Catherine sent her doctors. 'I beg of you,' said Catherine, 'spare no effort to save the life of the Queen of Navarre. It would be terrible if she were to die now that we have settled the arrangements for the marriage in such an amicable manner.'

Jeanne asked that Coligny might be brought to her. She felt, vague and hazy though she was, that there was much she should say to him. She knew that Coligny was in great danger; that the Huguenot cause was in danger; she remembered something of what her little son had overheard in the gallery of Bayonne; but her mind was failing her, and she could not clearly recall what it was.