the road leading from the river to the
summit of the hill. Lastly, the cortege entered the town amid the
ringing of the church bells, the roar of cannon, and bursts of music.
The acclamations of the inhabitants were enthusiastic; for a visit from
the king was of such rare occurrence at that time that, seen thus
closely, he seemed to be a living embodiment of divine right. The king,
as he progressed through the crowd, looked on all sides for his brother,
but in vain. He only found Henri du Bouchage waiting for him at the gate
of the chateau.

When once within the chateau, Henri III. inquired after the health of
the Duc d'Anjou from the officer who had assumed the high distinction of
receiving the king.

"Sire," replied the latter, "his highness, during the last few days, has
been residing in the pavilion in the park, and we have not yet seen him
this morning. It is most probable, however, that as he was well
yesterday, he is well also to-day."

"This pavilion is in a very retired part of the park, it seems," said
Henri, in a tone of displeasure, "since the sound of the cannon does not
seem to have been heard."

"Sire," one of the duke's two aged attendants ventured to remark, "his
highness did not, perhaps, expect your majesty so soon."

"Old fool," growled Henri, "do you think, then, that a king presents
himself in this way at other people's residences without informing them
of it? Monsieur le Duc d'Anjou has been aware of my intended arrival
since yesterday."

And then, afraid of casting a gloom over those around him by a grave or
sullen countenance, Henri, who wished to appear gentle and amiable at
the expense of his brother Francois, exclaimed, "Well, then, since he
has not come to meet us, we will go to meet him."

"Show us the way there," said Catherine, from the litter.

All the escort followed the road leading to the old park.

At the very moment that the guards, who were in advance, approached the
hedge, a shrill and piercing cry rent the air.

"What is that?" said the king, turning toward his mother.

"Great Heaven!" murmured Catherine, endeavoring to read the faces of
those around her, "it sounded like a cry of distress or despair."

"My prince! my poor master!" cried Francois' other aged attendant,
appearing at the window, and exhibiting signs of the most passionate
grief.

Every one hastened toward the pavilion, the king himself being hurried
along with the others. He arrived at the very mome