THE VALOIS SAGA: Queen Margot, Chicot de Jester & The Forty-Five Guardsmen (Historical Novels). Alexandre Dumas

withdrew, staggering, and in vain seeking to meet her husband’s eyes, but he did not even turn toward her.

      There was a moment’s silence, during which Catharine remained with her eyes fastened on the Duchess of Lorraine, who, without speaking, looked at her mother with clasped hands.

      Henry’s back was still turned, but he was watching the scene in a mirror, while seeming to curl his mustache with a pomade which Réné had just given to him.

      “And you, Henry,” said Catharine, “are you still intending to go out?”

      “Yes, that’s true,” exclaimed the king. “Faith, I was forgetting that the Duc d’Alençon and the Prince de Condé are waiting for me! These are admirable perfumes; they quite overpower one, and destroy one’s memory. Good evening, madame.”

      “Good evening! To-morrow you will perhaps bring me tidings of the admiral.”

      “Without fail — Well, Phoebe, what is it?”

      “Phoebe!” said the queen mother, impatiently.

      “Call her, madame,” said the Béarnais, “for she will not allow me to go out.”

      The queen mother rose, took the little greyhound by the collar, and held her while Henry left the apartment, with his features as calm and smiling as if he did not feel in his heart that his life was in imminent peril.

      Behind him the little dog, set free by Catharine de Médicis, rushed to try and overtake him, but the door was closed, and Phoebe could only put her long nose under the tapestry and give a long and mournful howl.

      “Now, Charlotte,” said Catharine to Madame de Sauve, “go and find Messieurs de Guise and Tavannes, who are in my oratory, and return with them; then remain with the Duchess of Lorraine, who has the vapors.”

      Chapter 7.

       The Night of the 24th of August, 1572.

       Table of Contents

      When La Mole and Coconnas had finished their supper — and it was meagre enough, for the fowls of La Belle Étoile had their pin feathers singed only on the sign — Coconnas whirled his chair around on one leg, stretched out his feet, leaned one elbow on the table, and drinking a last glass of wine, said:

      “Do you mean to go to bed instantly, Monsieur de la Mole?”

      “Ma foi! I am very much inclined, for it is possible that I may be called up in the night.”

      “And I, too,” said Coconnas; “but it appears to me that, under the circumstances, instead of going to bed and making those wait who are to come to us, we should do better to call for cards and play a game. They would then find us quite ready.”

      “I would willingly accept your proposal, sir, but I have very little money for play. I have scarce a hundred gold crowns in my valise, for my whole treasure. I rely on that with which to make my fortune!”

      “A hundred gold crowns!” cried Coconnas, “and you complain? By Heaven! I have but six!”

      “Why,” replied La Mole, “I saw you draw from your pocket a purse which appeared not only full, but I should say bloated.”

      “Ah,” said Coconnas, “that is to defray an old debt which I am compelled to pay to an old friend of my father, whom I suspect to be, like yourself, somewhat of a Huguenot. Yes, there are here a hundred rose nobles,” he added, slapping his pocket, “but these hundred rose nobles belong to Maître Mercandon. My personal patrimony, as I tell you, is limited to six crowns.”

      “How, then, can you play?”

      “Why, it is because of that I wished to play. Besides, an idea occurs to me.”

      “What is it?”

      “We both came to Paris on the same errand.”

      “Yes.”

      “Each of us has a powerful protector.”

      “Yes.”

      “You rely on yours, as I rely on mine.”

      “Yes.”

      “Well, then, it occurred to me that we should play first for our money, and afterwards for the first favor which came to us, either from the court or from our mistress”—

      “Really, a very ingenious idea,” said La Mole, with a smile, “but I confess I am not such a gamester as to risk my whole life on a card or a turn of the dice; for the first favor which may come either to you or to me will, in all probability, involve our whole life.”

      “Well, let us drop out of account the first favor from the court and play for our mistress’s first favor.”

      “I see only one objection to that,” said La Mole.

      “What objection?”

      “I have no mistress!”

      “Nor I either. But I expect to have one soon. Thank God! we are not cut out to want one long!”

      “Undoubtedly, as you say, you will have your wish, Monsieur de Coconnas, but as I have not the same confidence in my love-star, I feel that it would be robbery, I to pit my fortune against yours. But, if you will, let us play until your six crowns be lost or doubled, and if lost, and you desire to continue the game, you are a gentleman, and your word is as good as gold.”

      “Well and good!” cried Coconnas, “that’s the talk! You are right, sir, a gentleman’s word is as good as gold, especially when he has credit at court. Thus, believe me, I did not risk too much when I proposed to play for the first favor we might receive.”

      “Doubtless, and you might lose it, but I could not gain it; for, as I am with the King of Navarre, I could not receive anything from the Duc de Guise.”

      “Ah, the heretic!” muttered the landlord as he was at work polishing up his old helmet, “I got on the right scent, did I?” And he stopped his work long enough to cross himself piously.

      “Well, then,” continued Coconnas, shuffling the cards which the waiter had just brought him, “you are of the”—

      “Of the what?”

      “Of the new religion.”

      “I?”

      “Yes, you.”

      “Well, say that I am,” said La Mole, with a smile, “have you anything against us?”

      “Oh! thank God, no! It is all the same to me. I hate Huguenotry with all my heart, but I do not hate the Huguenots; besides, they are in fashion just now.”

      “Yes,” replied La Mole, smiling; “to wit, the shooting at the admiral with an arquebuse; but supposing we have a game of arquebusades.”

      “Anything you please,” said Coconnas, “provided I get to playing, it is all the same to me.”

      “Well, let us play, then,” said La Mole, picking up his cards and arranging them in his hand.

      “Yes, play ahead and with all confidence, for even if I were to lose a hundred crowns of gold against yours I shall have the wherewithal to pay you tomorrow morning.”

      “Then your fortune will come while you are asleep.”

      “No; I am going to find it.”

      “Where? Tell me and I’ll go with you.”

      “At the Louvre.”

      “Are you going back there to-night?”

      “Yes; to-night I have a private audience with the great Duc de Guise.”

      As soon as Coconnas began to speak about going to seek his fortune