ot know Catherine of Medicis, her artful wiles, her
deadly traits of vengeance? Shake not your head, Monseigneur! You know
her too. But, Charles no more, you will have the crown upon your
brow--it will be yours to give orders: those who will dare to disobey
you will be your rebel subjects. Act, then, as king. If she resist,
give orders for her arrest!"

"Arrest my Mother! Who would dare to do it?" said the Duke with agitation.

"I."

"Oh, no--no--La Mole! Never would I take upon myself"----

"Take upon yourself to be a King, if you would be one," said the
Duke's confidant, with energy.

"We will speak more of this," hastily interposed the wavering Duke.
"Hush! some one comes. It is this Ruggieri!"

In truth the astrologer re-entered the room. In his hand he bore a
small object wrapped in a white cloth, which he laid down upon the
table; and then, turning to the young men, who had hastily reassumed
their masks before he appeared, and who now stood before him, he
said--

"The sole great charm that can complete the will of destiny, and
assure the success of your great enterprise, lies there before you.
Have you no enemy whose death you most earnestly desire, to forward
that intent?"

The young men looked at each other; but they both answered, after the
hesitation of a moment--

"None!"

"None, upon whose death depends that turn in the wheel of fate that
should place you on its summit?"

Both the young men were silent.

"At all events," continued the cunning astrologer, "your destiny
depends upon the action of your own hands. This action we must symbol
forth in mystery, in order that your destiny be accomplished.
Here--take this instrument," he pursued, producing a long gold pin of
curious workmanship, which at need might have done the task of a
dagger, "and pierce the white cloth that lies before you on the
table."

The Duke drew back, and refused the instrument thus offered to him.

"Do I not tell you that the accomplishment of your brilliant destiny
depends upon this act?" resumed Ruggieri.

"I know not what this incantation may be," said the timid Duke. "Take
it, Philip."

But La Mole, little as he was inclined to the superstitious credulity
of the times, seemed not more disposed than his master to lend his
hand to an act which had the appearance of being connected with the
rites of sorcery, and he also refused. On the reiterated assurances of
the astrologer, however, that upon that harmless blow