ave the Louvre. Has he done so?"

"No, no, madame, he is in the Louvre; but if he is not here"--

"He is not here!"

"Oh!" cried Madame de Sauve, with an outburst of agony, "then he is a
dead man, for the queen mother has sworn his destruction!"

"His destruction! ah," said Marguerite, "you terrify me--impossible!"

"Madame," replied Madame de Sauve, with that energy which passion alone
can give, "I tell you that no one knows where the King of Navarre is."

"And where is the queen mother?"

"The queen mother sent me to find Monsieur de Guise and Monsieur de
Tavannes, who were in her oratory, and then dismissed me. Then--pardon
me, madame--I went to my room and waited as usual."

"For my husband, I suppose."

"He did not come, madame. Then I sought for him everywhere and asked
every one for him. One soldier told me he thought he had seen him in the
midst of the guards who accompanied him, with his sword drawn in his
hand, some time before the massacre began, and the massacre has begun an
hour ago."

"Thanks, madame," said Marguerite; "and although perhaps the sentiment
which impels you is an additional offence toward me,--yet, again, I
thank you!"

"Oh, forgive me, madame!" she said, "and I will return to my apartments
stronger for your pardon, for I dare not follow you, even at a
distance."

Marguerite extended her hand to her.

"I will go to Queen Catharine," she said. "Return to your room. The King
of Navarre is under my protection; I have promised him my alliance and I
will be faithful to my promise."

"But suppose you cannot obtain access to the queen mother, madame?"

"Then I will go to my brother Charles, and I will speak to him."

"Go, madame, go," said Charlotte, leaving Marguerite room to pass, "and
may God guide your majesty!"

Marguerite darted down the corridor, but when she reached the end of it
she turned to make sure that Madame de Sauve was not lingering behind.
Madame de Sauve was following her.

The Queen of Navarre saw her go upstairs to her own apartment, and then
she herself went toward the queen's chamber.

All was changed here. Instead of the crowd of eager courtiers, who
usually opened their ranks before the queen and respectfully saluted
her, Marguerite met only guards with red partisans and garments stained
with blood, or gentlemen in torn cloaks,--their faces blackened with
powder, bearing orders and despatches,--some going in, others going out,
and all this movement ba