Les Quarante-cinq. English

  CHAPTER XII.

  THE CHAMBER OF HIS MAJESTY HENRI III.

  In a great room at the Louvre sat Henri, pale and unquiet. Since hisfavorites, Schomberg, Quelus and Maugiron had been killed in a duel, St.Megrin had been assassinated by M. de Mayenne, and the wounds left bytheir deaths were still fresh and bleeding. The affection he bore hisnew favorites was very different from what he had felt for the old. Hehad overwhelmed D'Epernon with benefits, but he only loved him by fitsand starts, and at certain times he even hated him, and accused him ofcowardice and avarice.

  D'Epernon knew how to hide his ambition, which was indeed vague in itsaspirations; but his cupidity governed him completely. When he was rich,he was laughing and good-tempered; but when he was in want of money, heused to shut himself up in one of his castles, where, frowning and sad,he bemoaned his fate, until he had drawn from the weakness of the kingsome new gift.

  Joyeuse was very different. He loved the king, who, in turn, had for himalmost a fatherly affection. Young and impulsive, he was, perhaps,somewhat egotistical, and cared for little but to be happy. Handsome,brave and rich, Nature had done so much for him that Henri oftenregretted that she had left so little for him to add. The king knew hismen well, for he was remarkably clear-sighted: and though oftenbetrayed, was never deceived. But ennui was the curse of his life; hewas ennuye now, and was wondering if any one would come and amuse him,when M. le Duc d'Epernon was announced. Henri was delighted.

  "Ah! good-evening, duke; I am enchanted to see you. Why were you notpresent at the execution of Salcede?--I told you there would be room inmy box."

  "Sire, I was unable to avail myself of your majesty's kindness."

  "Unable?"

  "Yes, sire; I was busy."

  "One would think that you were my minister, coming to announce, with along face, that some subsidy had not been paid."

  "Ma foi! your majesty is right; the subsidy has not been paid, and I ampenniless. But it was not that which occupied me."

  "What then?"

  "Your majesty knows what passed at the execution of Salcede?"

  "Parbleu! I was there."

  "They tried to carry off the criminal."

  "I did not see that."

  "It is the rumor all through the city, however."

  "A groundless one."

  "I believe your majesty is wrong."

  "On what do you found your belief?"

  "Because Salcede denied before the people what he had confessed to thejudges."

  "Ah! you know that, already."

  "I try to know all that interests your majesty."

  "Thanks; but what do you conclude from all this?"

  "That a man who dies like Salcede was a good servant, sire."

  "Well?"

  "And the master who has such followers is fortunate."

  "You mean to say that I have none such; or, rather, that I no longerhave them. You are right, if that be what you mean."

  "I did not mean that; your majesty would find, I am sure, were thereoccasion, followers as devoted as Salcede."

  "Well, duke, do not look gloomy; I am sad enough already. Do be gay."

  "Gayety cannot be forced, sire."

  The king struck the table angrily. "You are a bad friend," said he; "Ilost all, when I lost my former ones."

  "May I dare to say to your majesty that you hardly encourage the newones."

  The king looked at him with an expression which he well understood.

  "Ah! your majesty reproaches me with your benefits," said he, "but I donot reproach you with my devotion."

  "Lavalette," cried Henri, "you make me sad; you who are so clever, andcould so easily make me joyful. It is not your nature to fightcontinually, like my old favorites; but you are facetious and amusing,and give good counsel. You know all my affairs, like that other morehumble friend, with whom I never experienced a moment's ennui."

  "Of whom does your majesty speak?"

  "Of my poor jester, Chicot. Alas! where is he?"

  D'Epernon rose, piqued. "Your majesty's souvenirs, to-day, are not veryamusing for other people," said he.

  "Why so?"

  "Your majesty, without intending it, perhaps, compared me to Chicot,which is not very flattering."

  "You are wrong, D'Epernon; I could only compare to Chicot a man wholoves me, and whom I love."

  "It was not to resemble Chicot, I suppose, that your majesty made me aduke?"

  "Chicot loved me, and I miss him; that is all I can say. Oh! when Ithink that in the same place where you now are have been all those youngmen, handsome, brave, and faithful--that there, on that very chair onwhich you have placed your hat, Chicot has slept more than a hundredtimes--"

  "Perhaps that was very amusing," interrupted the duke, "but certainlynot very respectful."

  "Alas! he has now neither mind nor body."--"What became of him?"

  "He died, like all who loved me."

  "Well, sire, I think he did well to die; he was growing old, and I haveheard that sobriety was not one of his virtues. Of what did hedie--indigestion?"

  "Of grief."

  "Oh! he told you so, to make you laugh once more."

  "You are wrong; he would not sadden me with the news of his illness. Heknew how I regretted my friends--he, who had so often seen me weep forthem."

  "Then it was his shade that came to tell you?"

  "No; I did not even see his shade. It was his friend, the worthy priorGorenflot, who wrote me this sad news."

  "I see that if he lived your majesty would make him chancellor."

  "I beg, duke, that you will not laugh at those who loved me, and whom Iloved."

  "Oh! sire, I do not desire to laugh, but just now you reproached me withwant of gayety, parfandious!"

  "Well, now I am in the mood to hear bad news, if you have any to tell.Luckily I have strength to bear it, or I should be dead ten times aday."

  "Which would not displease certain people of our acquaintance."

  "Oh! against them I have the arms of my Swiss."

  "I could find you a better guard than that."

  "You?"--"Yes, sire."

  "What is it?"

  "Will your majesty be so good as to accompany me to the old buildings ofthe Louvre?"

  "On the site of the Rue de l'Astruce?"

  "Precisely."

  "What shall I see there?"

  "Oh! come first."

  "It is a long way, duke."

  "We can go in five minutes through the galleries."

  "D'Epernon--"

  "Well, sire?"

  "If what you are about to show me be not worth seeing, take care."

  "I answer for it, sire."

  "Come, then," said the king, rising.

  The duke took his cloak, presented the king's sword to him, then, takinga light, preceded his majesty.