CHAPTER LXIV.
THE REGENCY.
The King, beginning to grow impatient, had summoned Monsieur de Nanceyto his room, and had just given him orders to go in search of Henry,when the latter appeared.
On seeing his brother-in-law at the door Charles uttered a cry of joy,but Henry stood motionless, as startled as if he had come face to facewith a corpse.
The two physicians who were at the bedside and the priest who had beenwith Charles withdrew.
Charles was not loved, and yet many were weeping in the antechambers. Atthe death of kings, good or bad, there are always persons who losesomething and who fear they will not find it again under the successor.
The mourning, the sobbing, the words of Catharine, the sinister andmajestic surroundings of the last moments of a king, the sight of theKing himself, suffering from a malady common enough afterwards, butwhich, at that time, was new to science, produced on Henry's mind, whichwas still youthful and consequently still susceptible, such a terribleimpression that in spite of his determination not to cause Charles freshanxiety as to his condition, he could not as we have said repress thefeeling of terror which came to his face on perceiving the dying mandripping with blood.
Charles smiled sadly. Nothing of those around them escapes the dying.
"Come, Henriot," said he, extending his hand with a gentleness of voiceHenry had never before noticed in him. "Come in; I have been veryunhappy at not seeing you for so long. I have tormented you greatlyduring my life, my poor friend, and sometimes, believe me, I havereproached myself for it. Sometimes I have taken the hands of those whotormented you, it is true, but a king cannot control circumstances, andbesides my mother Catharine, my brothers D'Anjou and D'Alencon, I had toconsider during my lifetime something else which was troublesome andwhich ceases the moment I draw near to death--state policy."
"Sire," murmured Henry, "I remember only the love I have always had formy brother, the respect I have always felt for my King."
"Yes, yes, you are right," said Charles, "and I am grateful to you forsaying this, Henriot, for truly you have suffered a great deal under myreign without counting the fact that it was during my reign that yourpoor mother died. But you must have seen that I was often driven?Sometimes I have resisted, but oftener I have yielded from very fatigue.But, as you said, let us not talk of the past. Now it is the presentwhich concerns me; it is the future which frightens me."
And the poor King hid his livid face in his emaciated hands.
After a moment's silence he shook his head as if to drive away allgloomy thoughts, thus causing a shower of blood to fall about him.
"We must save the state," he continued in a low tone, leaning towardsHenry. "We must prevent its falling into the hands of fanatics orwomen."
As we have just said, Charles uttered these words in a low tone, yetHenry thought he heard behind the headboard something like a dullexclamation of anger. Perhaps some opening made in the wall at theinstigation of Charles himself permitted Catharine to hear this finalconversation.
"Of women?" said the King of Navarre to provoke an explanation.
"Yes, Henry," said Charles, "my mother wishes the regency until mybrother returns from Poland. But mind what I tell you, he will not comeback."
"Why not?" cried Henry, whose heart gave a joyful leap.
"No, he cannot return," continued Charles, "because his subjects willnot let him leave."
"But," said Henry, "do you not suppose, brother, that the queen motherhas already written to him?"
"Yes, but Nancey stopped the courier at Chateau Thierry, and brought methe 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. Asweet thought seemed to light up his face, and, laying his hand on theKing of Navarre's shoulder:
"Alas!" said he, "do you remember, Henriot, the poor little boy I showedyou 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 youthat I will watch over him all the days and nights of my life. Commandme, my King."
"Thanks, Henriot, thanks!" said Charles, with a show of feeling unusualin him, but which the situation had roused, "I accept your promise. Donot make him a king,--fortunately he was not born for a throne,--butmake him happy. I have left him an independent fortune. Let him inherithis mother's nobility, that of the heart. Perhaps it would be better forhim if he were to enter the church. He would inspire less fear. Oh! itseems to me that I should die, if not happy, at least calm, if I had thekisses 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 dieas 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 andpowerful. Here is what will make you so."
And the King drew a parchment from under the pillow.
"See!" said he.
Henry glanced over the document sealed with the royal seal.
"The regency for me, sire!" said he, growing pale with joy.
"Yes, for you, until the return of the Duc d'Anjou, and as in allprobability the duke will never return it is not the regency only butthe throne that this gives you."
"The throne!" murmured Henry.
"Yes," said Charles, "you alone are worthy of it; you alone are capableof governing these debauched gallants, and these bold women who live byblood and tears. My brother D'Alencon is a traitor, and would deceiveevery one. Leave him in the prison in which I have placed him. My motherwill try to kill you, therefore banish her. My brother D'Anjou in threeor four months, perhaps in a year, will leave Varsovia and will come todispute the throne with you. Answer him by a bull from the pope. I havealready arranged that matter through my ambassador, the Duc de Nevers,and you will receive the document before long."
"Oh, my King!"
"You have but one thing to fear, Henry,--civil war; but by remainingconverted you will avoid this, for the Huguenots are strong only whenyou put yourself at their head, and Monsieur de Conde is nothing whenopposed to you. France is a country of plains, Henry, and consequently aCatholic country. The King of France ought to be the king of theCatholics and not the king of the Huguenots, for the King of Franceought to be the king of the majority. It is said I feel remorse for themassacre of Saint Bartholomew; doubts, yes; remorse, no. It is said Iam bleeding the blood of those Huguenots from every pore. I know what isflowing from me. It is arsenic and not blood."
"What do you mean, sire?"
"Nothing. If my death must be avenged, Henriot, it must be avenged byGod alone. Let us speak now of the future. I leave you a faithfulparliament and a trusty army. Lean on them and they will protect youagainst your only enemies--my mother and the Duc d'Alencon."
Just then the sound of arms and military commands were heard in thevestibule.
"I am dead!" murmured Henry.
"You fear? You hesitate?" said Charles, anxiously.
"I! sire," replied Henry; "no, I do not fear, nor do I hesitate. Iaccept."
Charles pressed Henry's hand. At that moment the nurse approached with adrink she had been preparing in the adjoining room, not knowing that thefate of France was being decided three feet from her.
> "Call my mother, nurse, and have Monsieur d'Alencon also summoned."