s dilated like those of a tigress about to show her
anger. But Charles raised his hand imperatively.

"I wish to speak to my brother Henry," said he. "Henry alone is my
brother; not he who is king yonder, but he who is a prisoner here. Henry
shall know my last wishes."

"And do you think," exclaimed the Florentine, with unusual boldness in
the face of the dread will of her son, her hatred for the Bearnais being
strong enough to make her forget her customary dissimulation,--"do you
think that if, as you say, you are near the tomb, I will yield to any
one, especially a stranger, my right to be present at your last hour; my
right as queen and mother?"

"Madame," said Charles, "I am still King; and I still command. I tell
you that I desire to speak to my brother Henry and yet you do not summon
my captain of the guard. A thousand devils! I warn you, madame, I still
have strength enough to go for him myself."

The King made a movement as if to rise from the bed, which brought to
light his body, bloody like Christ's after the flogging.

"Sire," cried Catharine, holding him back, "you wrong us all. You forget
the insults given to our family, you repudiate our blood. A son of
France alone should kneel before the death-bed of a King of France. As
to me, my place is marked out; it is here by the laws of nature as well
as the laws of royalty. Therefore I shall remain."

"And by what right do you remain, madame?" demanded Charles IX.

"Because I am your mother."

"You are no more my mother, madame, than is the Duc d'Alencon my
brother."

"You are mad, monsieur," said Catharine; "since when is she who gives
birth to a child no longer his mother?"

"From the moment, madame, when the unnatural mother takes away that
which she gives," replied Charles, wiping away a bloody sweat from his
lips.

"What do you mean, Charles? I do not understand you," murmured
Catharine, gazing at her son, her eyes dilated with astonishment.

"But you will, madame."

Charles searched under his pillow and drew out a small silver key.

"Take this, madame, and open my travelling-box. It contains certain
papers which will speak for me."

Charles pointed to a magnificent carved box, closed with a silver lock,
like the key, which occupied the most conspicuous place in the room.

Catharine, dominated by the look and manner of Charles, obeyed, advanced
slowly to the box, and opened it. But no sooner had she looked into it
than she suddenly sprang