o send out your invitations and I will send mine; or
rather let us not invite any one. We will only say we are going, and
then every one will be free. Good-by, mother! I am going to play on the
horn."

"You will exhaust yourself, Charles, as Ambroise Pare is always telling
you, and he is right. It is too severe an exercise for you."

"Bah! bah! bah!" said Charles; "I wish I were sure nothing else would be
the cause of my death. I should then bury every one here, including
Harry, who will one day succeed us all, as Nostradamus prophesies."

Catharine frowned.

"My son," she said, "mistrust especially all things that appear
impossible, and meanwhile take care of yourself."

"Only two or three blasts to rejoice my dogs, poor things; they are
wearied to death with doing nothing. I ought to have let them loose on
the Huguenots; that would have done them good!"

And Charles IX. left his mother's room, went into his armory, took down
a horn, and played on it with a vigor that would have done honor to
Roland himself. It was difficult to understand how so weak a frame and
such pale lips could blow a blast so powerful.

Catharine, in truth, was awaiting some one as she had told her son. A
moment after he had left her, one of her women came and spoke to her in
a low voice. The queen smiled, rose, and saluting the persons who formed
her court, followed the messenger.

Rene the Florentine, the man to whom on the eve of Saint Bartholomew
the King of Navarre had given such a diplomatic reception, had just
entered her oratory.

"Ah, here you are, Rene," said Catharine, "I was impatiently waiting for
you."

Rene bowed.

"Did you receive the note I wrote you yesterday?"

"I had that honor."

"Did you make another trial, as I asked you to do, of the horoscope cast
by Ruggieri, and agreeing so well with the prophecy of Nostradamus,
which says that all my three sons shall reign? For several days past,
affairs have decidedly changed, Rene, and it has occurred to me that
possibly fate has become less threatening."

"Madame," replied Rene, shaking his head, "your majesty knows well that
affairs do not change fate; on the contrary, fate controls affairs."

"Still, you have tried the sacrifice again, have you not?"

"Yes, madame," replied Rene; "for it is my duty to obey you in all
things."

"Well--and the result?"

"Still the same, madame."

"What, the black lamb uttered its three cries?"

"Just the same as before, ma