Chapter 19: In A Net.
After their return from hunting, they remained for anotherfortnight at Bearn; and then started, the countess and Francois toreturn home, and Philip to pay a visit to the Count de Valecourt,at his chateau in Dauphiny, in accordance with the promise he hadgiven him to visit him on his return to France. Here he remainedfor a month. The count treated him with the warmest hospitality,and introduced him to all his friends as the saviour of hisdaughter.
Claire had grown much since he had seen her, when he had riddenover with her father to Landres, a year before. She was now nearlysixteen, and was fast growing into womanhood.
Philip was already acquainted with many of the nobles and gentry ofDauphiny who had joined the Admiral's army and, after leavingValecourt, he stayed for a short time at several of their chateaux;and it was autumn before he joined Francois at Laville. Theinhabited portion of the chateau had been enlarged and made morecomfortable, for the king was still firm in his decision that peaceshould be preserved, and showed marked favour to the section of thecourt that opposed any persecution of the Huguenots. He had furthershown his desire for the friendship of the Protestant powers by thenegotiations that had been carried on for the marriage of the Dukeof Anjou to Queen Elizabeth.
"I have news for you," Francois said. "The king has invited theAdmiral to visit him. It has, of course, been a matter of greatdebate whether Coligny should trust himself at court, many of hisfriends strongly dissuading him; but he deems it best, in theinterests of our religion, that he should accept the invitation;and he is going to set out next week for Blois, where the king nowis with the court. He will take only a few of his friends with him.He is perfectly aware of the risk he runs but, to those who entreathim not to trust himself at court, he says his going there may be abenefit to the cause, and that his life is as nothing in the scale.However, he has declined the offers that have been made by manygentlemen to accompany him, and only three or four of his personalfriends ride with him."
"No doubt he acts wisely, there," Philip said. "It would bewell-nigh destruction to our cause, should anything befall him now;and the fewer of our leaders in Charles's hands, the lesstemptation to the court to seize them.
"But I do think it possible that good may come of Coligny, himself,going there. He exercises wonderful influence over all who come incontact with him, and he may be able to counterbalance theintrigues of the Catholic party, and confirm the king in hispresent good intentions towards us."
"I saw him two days ago, and offered to ride in his train,"Francois said; "but he refused, decidedly, to let me.
"'The friends who will accompany me,' he said, 'have, like myself,well-nigh done their work. The future is for you and those who areyoung. I cannot dream that the king would do wrong to invitedguests; but should aught happen, the blow shall fall upon none ofthose who should be the leaders of the next generation.'"
The news of the reception of the Admiral, at Blois, was anxiouslyawaited by the Huguenots of the west; and there was great joy whenthey heard that he had been received most graciously by the king,who had embraced him, and protested that he regarded it as one ofthe happiest days in his life; as he saw, in his return to hisside, the end of trouble and an assurance of future tranquillity.Even Catharine de Medici received the Admiral with warmth. The kingpresented him, from his private purse, with the large sum of ahundred thousand livres; to make good some of the great losses hehad suffered in the war. He also ordered that he should receive,for a year, the revenues of his brother the cardinal, who hadlately died; and appointed him guardian of one of the greatestates, during the minority of its heir--a post which brought withit considerable profits.
At Coligny's suggestion, Charles wrote to the Duke of Savoyinterceding for the Waldenses, who were being persecuted cruellyfor having assisted the Huguenots of France.
So angered were the Guises, by the favour with which the kingtreated the Admiral, that they retired from court; and the king wasthus left entirely to the influence of Montmorency and Coligny. Theambassador of Spain, who was further angered by Charles grantinginterviews to Louis of Nassau, and by his holding out hopes to theDutch of assistance in their struggle against Alva, also leftFrance in deep dudgeon, and with threats of war.
The result was, naturally, to cause a better state of feelingthroughout France. Persecutions everywhere ceased; and theHuguenots, for the first time for many years, were able to live inpeace, and without fear of their neighbours.
The negotiations for the marriage between the Prince of Navarre andMarguerite de Valois continued. The prince was now eighteen and ahalf, and the princess twenty. The idea of a marriage between themwas of old standing, for it had been proposed by Henry the Second,fifteen years before; but at the outbreak of the Huguenot troublesit had been dropped. Marshal Biron was sent by the king with theroyal proposals to the Queen of Navarre, who was now at LaRochelle. The queen expressed her gratitude for the honour offeredto her son, but prayed for time before giving a decided answer, inorder that she might consult the ministers of her religion as towhether such a marriage might be entered into, by one of theReformed religion.
The news of the proposed marriage, and also of the negotiationsthat had been opened for a marriage between Elizabeth of Englandand the Duc d'Alencon, created the greatest alarm throughout theCatholic world. A legate was sent to Charles by the pope, toprotest against it. Sebastian, King of Portugal, who had refusedthe hand of Marguerite when it had before been offered to him,reopened negotiations for it; while Philip of Spain did all in hispower to throw obstacles in the way of the match.
The ministers of the Reformed religion, consulted by the queen,considered that the marriage of Henry to Marguerite would be ofvast benefit to the Huguenot cause; and declared that a mixedmarriage was lawful. The English ambassador gave his strongestsupport to it, and the Queen of Navarre now entered upon thenegotiations in earnest, and went to Blois for the purpose.
The differences were entirely religious ones, the court insistingthat Henri, while living at Paris with his wife, should consent tobe deprived of all means of worshipping according to his ownreligion; while Marguerite, while in Bearn, should be guaranteedpermission to have mass celebrated there. The king would have beenready to waive both conditions; but Catherine who, after at firstfavouring the match, now threw every obstacle in its way, wasopposed to any conclusion. She refused to permit the Queen ofNavarre to have any interview with either Charles or Marguerite,unless she was also present; and hesitated at no falsehoods,however outrageous, in order to thwart the efforts of Jeanne andher friends.
The pious queen, however, was more troubled by the extreme and openprofligacy of the court than by the political difficulties sheencountered and, in her letters, implored her son to insist uponresiding at Bearn with his wife, and on no account to take up hisabode at Paris.
However, at last the difficulties were removed. The court abandonedits demand that Marguerite should be allowed to attend mass atBearn; and the Queen of Navarre, on her part, consented that themarriage should take place at Paris, instead of at Bearn as she hadbefore desired.
She then went to Paris to make preparations for the wedding. Thegreat anxiety she had gone through told heavily upon her, and a fewdays after her arrival at the capital she was seized with a feverwhich, in a very short time, terminated her life; not withoutconsiderable suspicions being entertained that her illness anddeath had been caused by poison, administered by an agent ofCatherine. She was, undoubtedly, one of the noblest women of herown or any other time. She was deeply religious, ready to incur alldangers for the sake of her faith, simple in her habits, pure inher life, unconquerable in spirit, calm and confident in defeat anddanger, never doubting for a moment that God would give victory tohis cause, and capable of communicating her enthusiasm to allaround her--a Christian heroine, indeed. Her death was a terribleblow to the Reformed religion. She died on the 9th of June, and themarriage was, in consequence, deferred until August.
The Admiral had not been present at B
lois during the negotiationsfor the marriage, for after remaining there for three weeks he hadretired to his estate at Chatillon, where he occupied himself withthe work of restoring his ruined chateau.
The Countess Amelie had accompanied the Queen of Navarre to Blois,and also to Paris, and had been with her at the time she died. Shehad sent a message to Francois and Philip to join her there, whenshe left Blois; accompanying her letter with a safe conduct signedby the king. On the road they were met by the news of the death ofthe Queen of Navarre. It was a severe blow to both of them, notonly from the effect it would have upon the Huguenot cause, butfrom the affection they personally felt for her.
The king, being grievously harassed by the opposite counsels hereceived, and his doubts as to which of his advisers were honest,wrote to Coligny; begging him to come and aid him, with his counseland support.
The Admiral received many letters imploring him not to go to Paris;where, even if the friendship of the king continued, he would beexposed to the danger of poison, to which, it was generallybelieved, his brothers and the Queen of Navarre had succumbed; butalthough fully aware of the danger of the step, he did nothesitate. To one of his advisers he wrote fearlessly:
"As a royal officer, I cannot in honour refuse to comply with thesummons of the king; but will commit myself to the providence ofHim who holds in His hands the hearts of kings and princes, and hasnumbered my years, nay, the very hairs of my head."
One reason of the king's desire for the counsels of the Admiral wasthat he had determined to carry out his advice, and that of Louisof Nassau, to assist the Protestants of Holland, and to embark in astruggle against the dangerous predominance of Spain. As a firststep, he had already permitted Louis of Nassau to recruit secretly,in France, five hundred horse and a thousand infantry from amonghis Huguenot friends, and to advance with them into theNetherlands; and with these Louis had, on the 24th of May, capturedMons, the capital of Hainault.
The Huguenot leaders did their best to persuade Charles to followup this stroke by declaring war against Spain; and the king wouldhave done so, had it not been that Elizabeth of England, who hadbefore urged him to this course, promising him her aid, now drewback with her usual vacillation; wishing nothing better than to seeFrance and Spain engaged in hostilities from which she would,without trouble or expense, gain advantage. Meanwhile Catharine,Anjou and the Guise faction all did their best to counteract theinfluence of the Huguenots.
Elizabeth's crafty and hesitating policy was largely responsiblefor the terrible events that followed. Charles saw that she hadbeen fooling him, both in reference to his course towards Spain andin her negotiations for a marriage with one or other of hisbrothers. These matters were taken advantage of by his Catholicadvisers, and disposed him to doubt the wisdom of his having placedhimself in the hands of the Huguenots.
While Elizabeth was hesitating, a blow came that confirmed the kingin his doubts as to the prudence of the course he had taken. Alvalaid siege to Mons. A Huguenot force of some three thousand men,led by the Sieur de Genlis, marched to its relief; but wassurprised, and utterly routed, within a short distance of thetown--1200 were killed on the field of battle, some 1900 fugitiveswere slain by the peasantry, barely a hundred reached Mons.
Coligny, who was preparing a much larger force for the assistanceof Louis of Nassau, still strove to induce the king to throwhimself heart and soul into the struggle against Spain; and evenwarned him that he would never be a true king, until he could freehimself from his mother's control and the influence of his brotherAnjou.
The queen mother, who had spies everywhere, was not long inlearning that Coligny had given this advice, and her hatred againsthim was proportionately increased. She at once went in tears toCharles, and pointed out to him that it was to her counsel and aid,alone, that he had owed his success against the Huguenots; thatthey were now obtaining all the advantages for which they hadfought, in vain; and that he was endangering the safety of histhrone by angering Spain, relying only on the empty promises of thefaithless Queen of England.
Charles, always weak and irresolute, succumbed at once to her tearsand entreaties, and gave himself up altogether to her perniciouscounsels.
After the death of the Queen of Navarre the countess travelled backto Laville, escorted by her son and Philip. The young men made nostay there, but returned at once to Paris where, now that Colignywas in the king's counsels, there was no ground for fear, and theapproaching nuptials of the young King of Navarre would be attendedby large numbers of his adherents. They took a lodging near thatoccupied by the Admiral.
De la Noue was not at court, he being shut up in Mons, havingaccompanied Louis of Nassau in his expedition. The court was indeep mourning for the Queen of Navarre, and there would be nopublic gaieties until the wedding. Among the Huguenot lords who hadcome to Paris were the Count de Valecourt and his daughter, who wasnow seventeen, and had several suitors for her hand among the youngHuguenot nobles.
Francois and Philip were both presented to the king by the Admiral.Charles received them graciously and, learning that they had beenstopping at Bearn with the Prince of Navarre, presented them to hissister Margaret.
"These gentlemen, Margot, are friends of the King of Navarre, andwill be able to tell you more about him than these gravepoliticians can do."
The princess, who was one of the most beautiful women of her time,asked them many questions about her future husband, of whom she hadseen so little since his childhood, and about the place where shewas to live; and after that time, when they went to court with theAdmiral, who on such occasions was always accompanied by a numberof Huguenot gentlemen, the young princess always showed them markedfriendliness.
As the time for the marriage approached, the king became more andmore estranged from the Admiral. Queen Elizabeth, while professingher friendship for the Netherlands, had forbidden Englishvolunteers to sail to the assistance of the Dutch; and had writtento Alva offering, in token of her friendship, to hand over Flushingto the Spaniards. This proof of her duplicity, and of theimpossibility of trusting her as an ally, was made the most of byCatherine; and she easily persuaded the weak-minded king thathostilities with the Spaniards would be fatal to him, and that,should he yield to the Admiral's entreaties, he would fall whollyinto the power of the Huguenots. The change in the king'sdeportment was so visible that the Catholics did not conceal theirexultation, while a feeling of uneasiness spread among some of theHuguenot gentlemen at Paris.
"What are you doing, Pierre!" Philip said one day, when he foundhis servant occupied in cleaning up the two pairs of heavy pistolsthey carried in their holsters.
"I am getting them ready for action, master. I always thought thatthe Huguenots were fools to put their heads into this cage; and themore I see of it, the less I like it."
"There can be no reason for uneasiness, Pierre. The king himselfhas, over and over, declared his determination to maintain thetruce and, even did he harbour ill designs against us, he would notmar his sister's marriage by fresh steps against the Huguenots.What may follow, after we have all left Paris, I cannot say."
"Well, sir, I hope it may be all right, but since I got a sight ofthe king's face the other day, I have no faith in him; he lookslike one worried until well nigh out of his senses--and no wonder.These weak men, when they become desperate, are capable of the mostterrible actions. A month since he would have hung up his motherand Anjou, had they ventured to oppose him; and there is no saying,now, upon whom his wrath may fall.
"At any rate, sir, with your permission I mean to be prepared forthe worst; and the first work is to clean these pistols."
"There can be no harm in that anyhow, Pierre, but I have no shadowof fear of any trouble occurring. The one thing I am afraid of isthat the king will keep Coligny near him, so that if war shouldbreak out again, we shall not have him for our general. With theQueen of Navarre dead, the Admiral a prisoner here, and De la Nouea captive in the hands of Alva, we should fight under terribledisadvantages; especially as La Rochelle, La Ch
arite, and Montaubanhave received royal governors, in accordance with the conditions ofthe peace."
"Well, we shall see, master. I shall feel more comfortable if Ihave got ready for the worst."
Although Philip laughed at the fears of Pierre, he was yetimpressed by what he had said; for he had come to rely very muchupon the shrewdness of observation of his follower. When, however,he went that evening to the Count de Valecourt's, he saw that therewas no tinge of such feeling in the minds of the Huguenots present.The only face that had an unusual look was that of Claire.Apparently she was gayer than usual, and laughed and talked morethan was her wont; but Philip saw that this mood was not a naturalone, and felt sure that something had happened. Presently, when hepassed near her, she made room for him on the settee beside her.
You have not heard the news, Monsieur Philip?]
"You have not heard the news, Monsieur Philip?"
"No, mademoiselle, I have heard no particular news."
"I am glad of it. I would rather tell you myself. My father has,today, laid his commands on me to marry the Sieur de Pascal."
Philip could not trust himself to speak. He had never acknowledgedto himself that he loved Claire de Valecourt; and had, over andover again, endeavoured to impress upon his mind the fact that itwould be ridiculous for him even to think of her; for that herfather would never dream of giving her, a rich heiress, and thelast of one of the proudest families of Dauphiny, to a simpleEnglish gentleman.
As he did not speak, the girl went on after a pause.
"It is not my wish, Monsieur Philip; but French girls do not choosefor themselves. My father stated his wishes to me three months ago,in Dauphiny. I then asked for a little time, and now he has told methat it is to be. He is wise and good, and I have nothing to sayagainst the Sieur de Pascal; who, as you know, is our nearneighbour, a brave gentleman, and one whom I have known since mychildhood. It is only that I do not love him. I have told my fatherso, but he says that it is not to be expected that a young maidshould love, until after marriage."
"And you have promised?" Philip asked.
"Yes, I have promised," she said simply. "It is the duty of adaughter to obey her father, especially when that father is as goodand kind as mine has always been to me.
"There, he is beckoning to me;" and, rising, she crossed the room.
Philip, a few minutes later, took his departure quietly. Francoisde Laville came in, an hour afterwards, to their lodgings.
"Well, Philip, I did not see you leave the count's. Did you hearthe news before you left? The count announced it shortly after youhad gone."
"His daughter told me herself," Philip said.
"I am sorry, Philip. I had thought, perhaps--but it is of no usetalking of that, now."
"Not the least in the world, Francois. It is natural that herfather should wish her to marry a noble of his own province. Shehas consented, and there is no more to be said.
"When is Henri to arrive? We are all to ride out to meet him, andto follow him into Paris. I hope that it will all pass off well."
"Why, of course it will. What is to prevent it? The wedding will bethe grandest ever known in Paris. I hear that Henri brings with himseven hundred Huguenot gentlemen; and a hundred of us here willjoin him, under the Admiral. It will be a brave sight."
"I wish it was all over."
"Why, it is not often you are in low spirits, Philip. Is it thenews that has upset you, or have you heard anything else?"
"No; but Pierre has been croaking and prophesying evil, andalthough I in no way agree with him, it has still made me uneasy."
"Why, what is there to fear?" Francois said, laughing. "Not the mobof Paris, surely. They would never venture to brave the king'sanger by marring the nuptials by disorder; and if they did,methinks that eight hundred of us, with Coligny at our head, couldcut our way through the mob of Paris from one end of the city tothe other."
The entrance of the King of Navarre into Paris was, indeed, animposing sight. Coligny with his train had joined him outside thetown, and the Admiral rode on one side of the young king, and thePrince of Conde on the other. With them rode the Dukes of Anjou andAlencon, who had ridden out with a gay train of nobles to welcomeHenri in the king's name, and escort him into the city. TheHuguenots were still in mourning for the late queen; but thesumptuous materials of their dress, set off by their gold chainsand ornaments, made a brave show even by the side of the gaycostumes of the prince's party.
The betrothal took place at the Louvre on the 17th of August, andwas followed by a supper and a ball. After the conclusion of thefestivities Marguerite was, in accordance with the custom of theprincesses of the blood, escorted by her brothers and a largeretinue to the Bishops' Palace adjoining the Cathedral, to pass thenight before her wedding there.
The ceremony upon the following day was a most gorgeous one. Theking, his two brothers, Henri of Navarre, and Conde were alldressed alike in light yellow satin, embroidered with silver, andenriched with precious stones. Marguerite was in a violet velvetdress, embroidered with fleurs de lis, and she wore on her head acrown glittering with gems. The queen and the queen mother weredressed in cloth of gold.
Upon a lofty platform, in front of the Cathedral of Notre Dame,Henri of Navarre with his train of Protestant lords awaited thecoming of the bride; who was escorted by the king, and all themembers of his court. The ceremony was performed, in sight of anenormous concourse of people, by the Cardinal Bourbon, who used aform that had been previously agreed upon by both parties. Henrithen led his bride into the cathedral; and afterwards, with hisProtestant companions, retired to the Episcopal Palace while masswas being said. When this was over, the whole party sat down todinner in the Episcopal Palace.
In the evening an entertainment was given, in the Louvre, to thenotabilities of Paris; and after supper there was a masque of themost lavish magnificence. On Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday therewas a continuation of pageants and entertainments. During thesefestivities the king had shown marked courtesy to the Admiral andthe Huguenot lords, and it seemed as if he had again emancipatedhimself from his mother's influence; and the hopes of theProtestants, that he would shortly declare war with Spain, wereraised to the highest point.
Although the question was greatly debated at the time, and thebelief that the massacre of the Protestants was deliberatelyplanned long beforehand by the king and queen-mother is stillgenerally entertained, the balance of evidence is strongly theother way. What dark thoughts may have passed through the schemingbrain of Catharine de Medici none can say, but it would certainlyappear that it was not until after the marriage of Henri andMarguerite that they took form. She was driven to bay. She sawthat, in the event of a war with Spain, the Huguenots would becomeall powerful in France. Already the influence of the Admiral wasgreater than her own, and it had become a battle of life and deathwith her; for Coligny, in his fearless desire to do what was right,and for the service of France, was imprudent enough over and overagain to warn the king against the evil influence of the queenmother and the Duke d'Anjou; and Charles, in his fits of temper,did not hesitate to divulge these counsels. The Duke d'Anjou andhis mother, therefore, came to the conclusion that Coligny must beput out of the way.
The duke, afterwards, did not scruple to avow his share in thepreparations for the massacre of Saint Bartholomew. The Duchess ofNemours, her son Henri of Guise, and her brother-in-law the Ducd'Aumale were taken into their counsels, and the plan was speedilysettled.
Few as were the conspirators taken into the confidence of the queenmother, mysterious rumours of danger reached the ears of theHuguenots. Some of these, taking the alarm, left Paris and made fortheir estates; but by far the greater portion refused to believethat there could be danger to those whom the king had invited to bepresent upon such an occasion. In another week, Coligny would beleaving, having, as he hoped, brought the king entirely round tohis views; and the vast majority of the Huguenot gentlemen resolvedto stay until he left.
Pierre grew more and more serious.
Francois had left the lodgings,being one of the Huguenot gentlemen whom Henri of Navarre hadchosen to lodge with him at the Louvre.
"You are getting quite unbearable, Pierre, with your long face andyour grim looks," Philip said to him on the Friday morning, half injoke and half in earnest. "Why, man, in another week we shall beout of Paris, and on our way south."
"I hope so, Monsieur Philip, with all my heart I hope so; but Ifeel just as I used to do when I was a boy living in the woods, andI saw a thundercloud working up overhead. I cannot tell you why Ifeel so. It is something in the air. I wish sir, oh, so much! thatyou would leave at once."
"That I cannot do, Pierre. I have no estates that demand myattention, no excuse whatever for going. I came here with mycousin, and shall leave with him."
"Well, sir, if it must be, it must."
"But what is that you fear, Pierre?"
"When one is in a town, sir, with Catharine de Medici, and her sonAnjou, and the Guises, there is always something to fear. Guise isthe idol of the mob of Paris, who have always shown themselvesready to attack the Huguenots. He has but to hold up his finger,and they would be swarming on us like bees."
"But there are troops in the town, Pierre, and the king wouldpunish Paris heavily, were it to insult his guests."
"The king is a weathercock, and goes whichever way the wind blows,monsieur--today he is with the Admiral, tomorrow he may be with theGuises.
"At any rate, I have taken my precautions. I quite understand that,if the danger is foreseen, you will all rally round the Admiral andtry to fight your way out of Paris. But if it comes suddenly therewill be no time for this. At any hour the mob may come surging upthe streets, shouting, as they have often shouted before, 'Death tothe Huguenots!' Then, monsieur, fighting would not avail you. Youwould be unable to join your friends, and you would have to thinkfirst of your own life.
"I have been examining the house, and I find that from an upperwindow one can gain the roof. I got out yesterday evening, after itwas dark, and found that I could easily make my way along. Thetenth house from here is the one where the Count de Valecourtlodges, and it is easy to gain access to it by a window in theroof. There will be some of your friends there, at any rate. Or wecan pass down through any of the intervening houses. In the threebefore we reach that of the count Huguenots are lodged. The othersbelong to Catholics, but it might be possible to pass down throughthem and to go into the street unobserved.
"I have bought for myself some rags, such as are worn by the lowestof the mob; and for you a monk's gown and hood. These I have placedsecurely against a chimney on our roof.
"I have also, monsieur," and Pierre's eyes twinkled, "bought thedress of a woman of the lower class, thinking that there might besome lady you might be desirous of saving."
"You frighten me, Pierre, with your roofs and your disguises,"Philip said, looking with wonder at his follower. "Why, man, thisis a nightmare of your own imagination."
"It may be so, master. If it is, no harm is done. I have laid out afew crowns uselessly, and there is an end of it. But if it shouldnot be a nightmare, but a real positive danger, you would at leastbe prepared for it; and those few crowns may be the saving of ourlives."
Philip walked up and down the room for some time.
"At any rate, Pierre, you have acted wisely. As you say, the costis as nothing; and though my reason revolts against a belief inthis nightmare of yours, I am not such a fool as to refuse to payany attention to it. I know that you are no coward, and certainlynot one to indulge in wild fancies.
"Let us go a step farther. Suppose that all this should turn outtrue, and that you, I, and--and some lady--are in disguise in themidst of a howling mob shouting, 'Death to the Huguenots!' Whatshould we do next? Where should we go?
"It seems to me that your disguise for me is a badly chosen one. Asa monk, how could I keep with you as a beggar, still less with awoman?"
"When I bought the monk's robe I had not thought of a woman,monsieur. That was an afterthought. But what you say is just. Imust get you another disguise. You shall be dressed as a butcher,or a smith."
"Let it be a smith, by all means, Pierre. Besides, it would besafer. I would smear my face with dirt. I should get plenty on myhands from climbing over the roofs.
"Let us suppose ourselves, then, in the mob. What should we donext?"
"That would all depend, sir, whether the soldiers follow the Guisesand take part with the mob in their rising. If so, Paris would bein a turmoil from end to end, and the gates closed. I have thoughtit all over, again and again; and while your worship has beenattending the entertainments, I have been walking about Paris.
"If it is at night I should say we had best make for the river,take a boat and drift down; or else make for the walls, and lowerourselves by a rope from them. If it is in the day we could not dothat; and I have found a hovel, at present untenanted, close to thewalls, and we could wait there until night."
"You will end by making me believe this, Pierre," Philip saidangrily, as he again walked up and down the room, with impatientsteps. "If you had a shadow of foundation for what you say, even arumour that you had picked up in the street, I would go straight tothe Admiral. But how could I go and say:
"'My servant, who is a faithful fellow, has taken it into his headthat there is danger from an attack on us by the mob.'
"What think you the Admiral would say to that? He would say that itwas next door to treason to imagine such things, and that if menwere to act upon such fancies as these, they would be fit only forhospitals for the insane. Moreover he would say that, even if youhad evidence, even if you had something to show that treachery wasmeant, he would still, in the interest of France, stay at his postof duty."
At this moment the door opened, and Francois de Laville enteredhurriedly.
"What is the matter, Francois?" Philip exclaimed, seeing that hiscousin looked pale and agitated.
"Have you not heard the news?"
"I have heard nothing. I have not been out this morning."
"The Admiral has been shot."
Philip uttered an exclamation of horror.
"Not killed, Francois; not killed, I trust?"
"No; two balls were fired, one took off a finger of his right hand,and another has lodged in his left arm. He had just left the king,who was playing at tennis, and was walking homewards with two orthree gentlemen, when an arquebus was fired from a house not farfrom his own. Two of the gentlemen with him assisted him home,while some of the others burst in the door of the house.
"They were too late. Only a woman and a manservant were foundthere. The assassin had fled by the back of the house, where ahorse was standing in waiting. It is said that the house belongs tothe old Duchess of Guise.
"It is half an hour since the news reached the palace, and you mayimagine the consternation it excited. The king has shut himself upin his room. Navarre and Conde are in deep grief, for they bothregard the Admiral almost as a father. As for the rest of us, weare furious.
"There is a report that the man who was seen galloping away fromthe house from which the shot was fired was that villain Maurevel,who so treacherously shot De Mouy, and was rewarded by the king forthe deed. It is also said that a groom, in the livery of Guise, washolding the horse when the assassin issued out.
"Navarre and Conde have gone to Coligny. The king's surgeon isdressing his wounds."