sly.

"Where is this remedy?" said he, rising on his elbow and looking at his
mother.

"In the disease itself," replied Catharine.

"Then where is that?"

"Listen to me, my son," said Catharine, "have you not sometimes heard it
said that there are secret enemies who in their revenge assassinate
their victim from a distance?"

"By steel or poison?" asked Charles, without once turning his eyes from
the impassible face of his mother.

"No, by a surer and much more terrible means," said Catharine.

"Explain yourself."

"My son," asked the Florentine, "do you believe in charms and magic?"

Charles repressed a smile of scorn and incredulity.

"Fully," said he.

"Well," said Catharine, quickly, "from magic comes all your suffering.
An enemy of your Majesty who would not have dared to attack you openly
has conspired in secret. He has directed against your Majesty a
conspiracy much more terrible in that he has no accomplices, and the
mysterious threads of which cannot be traced."

"Faith, no!" said Charles, aghast at such cunning.

"Think well, my son," said Catharine, "and recall to mind certain plans
for flight which would have assured impunity to the murderer."

"To the murderer!" cried Charles. "To the murderer, you say? Has there
been an attempt to kill me, mother?"

Catharine's changing eye rolled hypocritically under its wrinkled lid.

"Yes, my son; you doubt it, perhaps, but I know it for a certainty."

"I never doubt what you tell me, mother," replied the King, bitterly.
"How was the attempt made? I am anxious to know."

"By magic."

"Explain yourself, madame," said Charles, recalled by his loathing to
his role of observer.

"If the conspirator I mean, and one whom at heart your Majesty already
suspects, had succeeded in his plans, no one would have fathomed the
cause of your Majesty's sufferings. Fortunately, however, sire, your
brother watched over you."

"Which brother?"

"D'Alencon."

"Ah! yes, that is true; I always forget that I have a brother," murmured
Charles, laughing bitterly; "so you say, madame"--

"That fortunately he revealed the conspiracy. But while he,
inexperienced child that he is, sought only the traces of an ordinary
plot, the proofs of a young man's escapade, I sought for proofs of a
much more important deed; for I understand the reach of the guilty one's
mind."

"Ah! mother, one would say you were speaking of the King of Navarre,"
said Charles, anxious to see how