l.' It is not necessary to know Latin to understand that: it is
almost French."

"But, sire, to whom did these words apply?"

"Ah! that is what I want to know, but you, who know Latin, can help me
to find out."

Marguerite colored up to her ears.

"Well, monsieur," said she, "you wish me to take a humiliating step for
the sake of peace, and therefore I will comply."

"Thanks, ma mie, thanks."

"But what is the object of this visit?"

"It is very simple, madame."

"Still, you must tell me, for I am not clever enough to guess it."

"Well! you will find Fosseuse among the ladies of honor, sleeping in
their room; and they, you know, are so curious and indiscreet that one
cannot tell to what extremity Fosseuse may be reduced."

"But then she fears something," cried Marguerite, with a burst of anger
and hatred; "she wishes to hide herself."

"I do not know; all I do know is, that she wishes to quit the room of
the maids of honor."

"If she wishes to hide, let her not count on me. I may shut my eyes to
certain things, but I will never be an accomplice," said Marguerite.

Henri seemed not to have heard, but he stood for a minute in a
thoughtful attitude, and then said, "Margota cum Turennio. Ah! those
were the names, madame--'Margota cum Turennio.'"

Marguerite grew crimson.

"Calumnies, sire!" cried she.

"What calumnies?" replied he, with the most natural air possible. "Do
you find any calumny in it? It is a passage from my brother's
letter--'Margota cum Turennio conveniunt in castello nomine
Loignac!'--Decidedly I must get this letter translated."

"Leave this comedy, sire," said Marguerite, tremblingly, "and tell me at
once what you want from me."

"Well, I wish, ma mie, that you should separate Fosseuse from the other
girls, and send her a discreet doctor; your own, for example."

"Ah! I see what it is," cried the queen, "Fosseuse, the paragon, is near
her accouchement."

"I do not say so, ma mie; it is you who affirm it."

"It is so, monsieur; your insinuating tone, your false humility, prove
it to me. But there are sacrifices that no man should ask of his wife.
Take care of Fosseuse yourself, sire; it is your business, and let the
trouble fall on the guilty, not on the innocent."

"The guilty! Ah! that makes me think of the letter again."

"How so?"

"Guilty is 'nocens,' is it not?"

"Yes."

"Well, there was that word in the letter--'Margota cum Turennio, ambo
nocentes, conveniunt in ca