Charles looked up, and Henry
observed the perspiration dropping from his brow like large beads.

"Good evening, Harry," said the young King, roughly. "La Chastre, leave
us."

The captain obeyed.

A gloomy silence ensued. Henry looked around him with uneasiness, and
saw that he was alone with the King.

Charles IX. suddenly arose.

"_Par la mordieu!_" said he, passing his hands through his light brown
hair, and wiping his brow at the same time, "you are glad to be with me,
are you not, Harry?"

"Certainly, sire," replied the King of Navarre, "I am always happy to be
with your Majesty."

"Happier than if you were down there, eh?" continued Charles, following
his own thoughts rather than replying to Henry's compliment.

"I do not understand, sire," replied Henry.

"Look out, then, and you will soon understand."

And with a quick movement Charles stepped or rather sprang to the
window, and drawing with him his brother-in-law, who became more and
more terror-stricken, he pointed to him the horrible outlines of the
assassins, who, on the deck of a boat, were cutting the throats or
drowning the victims brought them at every moment.

"In the name of Heaven," cried Henry; "what is going on to-night?"

"To-night, sir," replied Charles IX., "they are ridding me of all the
Huguenots. Look yonder, over the Hotel de Bourbon, at the smoke and
flames: they are the smoke and flames of the admiral's house, which is
on fire. Do you see that body, which these good Catholics are drawing on
a torn mattress? It is the corpse of the admiral's son-in-law--the
carcass of your friend, Teligny."

"What means this?" cried the King of Navarre, seeking vainly by his side
for the hilt of his dagger, and trembling equally with shame and anger;
for he felt that he was at the same time laughed at and threatened.

"It means," cried Charles IX., becoming suddenly furious, and turning
frightfully pale, "it means that I will no longer have any Huguenots
about me. Do you hear me, Henry?--Am I King? Am I master?"

"But, your Majesty"--

"My Majesty kills and massacres at this moment all that is not Catholic;
it is my pleasure. Are you a Catholic?" exclaimed Charles, whose anger
was rising higher and higher, like an awful tide.

"Sire," replied Henry, "do you remember your own words, 'What matters
the religion of those who serve me well'?"

"Ha! ha! ha!" cried Charles, bursting into a ferocious laugh; "you ask
me if I remember my words, H