Queen Margot by Alexandre Dumas

Author:Alexandre Dumas
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2020-09-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter XXX

Maurevel

While all this careless, light-hearted youth, apparently so at least, was scattering like a gilded whirlwind along the road to Bondy, Catharine, still rolling up the precious parchment to which King Charles had just affixed his signature, admitted into her room a man to whom, a few days before, her captain of the guards had carried a letter, addressed to Rue de la Cerisaie, near the Arsenal.

A broad silk band like a badge of mourning hid one of the man’s eyes, showing only the other eye, two prominent cheek-bones, and the curve of a vulture’s nose, while a grayish beard covered the lower part of his face. He wore a long thick cloak, beneath which one might have imagined a whole arsenal. Besides this, although it was not the custom of those called to court, he wore at his side a long campaign sword, broad, and with a double blade. One of his hands was hidden beneath his cloak, and never left the handle of a long dagger.

“Ah! you here, monsieur?” said the queen seating herself; “you know that I promised you after Saint Bartholomew, when you rendered us such signal service, not to let you be idle. The opportunity has arisen, or rather I have made it. Thank me, therefore.”

“Madame, I humbly thank your majesty,” replied the man with the black bandage, in a reserved voice at once low and insolent.

“A fine opportunity; you will not find another such in your whole life. Make the most of it, therefore.”

“I am waiting, madame, only after the preamble, I fear”—

“That the commission may not be much? Are not those who wish to advance fond of such commissions? The one of which I speak would be envied by the Tavannes and even by the De Guises.”

“Ah! madame,” said the man, “believe me, I am at your majesty’s orders, whatever they may be.”

“In that case, read,” said Catharine.

She handed him the parchment. The man read it and grew pale.

“What!” he exclaimed, “an order to arrest the King of Navarre!”

“Well! what is there strange in that?”

“But a king, madame! Really, I think—I fear I am not of sufficiently high rank.”

“My confidence makes you the first gentleman of my court, Monsieur de Maurevel,” said Catharine.

“I thank your majesty,” said the assassin so moved that he seemed to hesitate.

“You will obey, then?”

“If your majesty orders it, is it not my duty?”

“Yes, I order it.”

“Then I will obey.”

“How shall you go to work?”

“Why, madame, I do not know, I should greatly like to be guided by your majesty.”

“You fear noise?”

“I admit it.”

“Take a dozen sure men, if necessary.”

“I understand, of course, that your majesty will permit me to do the best I can for myself, and I am grateful to you for this; but where shall I arrest the King of Navarre?”

“Where would it best please you to arrest him?”

“In some place in which I should be warranted in doing so, if possible, even by his Majesty.”

“Yes, I understand, in some royal palace; what do you

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