not a matter of conviction, but of calculation.
You have abjured so that the King would let you live, and not because
God has saved your life."

"Whatever the cause of my conversion, De Mouy," replied Henry, "I am
none the less a Catholic."

"Yes, but shall you always be one? The first chance you have for
resuming your freedom of life and of conscience, will you not resume it?
Well! this opportunity has presented itself. La Rochelle has revolted,
Roussillon and Bearn are merely waiting for one word before acting. In
Guyenne every one cries for war. Merely tell me if you were forced into
taking this step, and I will answer for the future."

"A gentleman of my birth is not forced, my dear De Mouy. That which I
have done, I have done voluntarily."

"But, sire," said the young man, his heart oppressed with this
resistance which he had not expected, "you do not remember that in
acting thus you abandon and betray us."

Henry was unmoved.

"Yes," went on De Mouy, "yes, you betray us, sire, for several of us, at
the risk of our lives, have come to save your honor and your liberty; we
are prepared to offer you a throne, sire; do you realize this? not only
liberty, but power; a throne of your own choice, for in two months you
could choose between Navarre and France."

"De Mouy," said Henry, covering his eyes, which in spite of himself had
emitted a flash at the above suggestion, "De Mouy, I am safe, I am a
Catholic, I am the husband of Marguerite, I am the brother of King
Charles, I am the son-in-law of my good mother Catharine. De Mouy, in
assuming these various positions, I have calculated their opportunities
and also their obligations."

"But, sire," said De Mouy, "what must one believe? I am told that your
marriage is not contracted, that at heart you are free, that the hatred
of Catharine"--

"Lies, lies," interrupted the Bearnais hastily. "Yes, you have been
shamefully deceived, my friend; this dear Marguerite is indeed my wife,
Catharine is really my mother, and King Charles IX. is the lord and
master of my life and of my heart."

De Mouy shuddered, and an almost scornful smile passed over his lips.

"In that case, sire," said he dropping his arms dejectedly, and trying
to fathom that soul filled with shadows, "this is the answer I am to
take back to my brothers,--I shall tell them that the King of Navarre
extends his hand and opens his heart to those who have cut our throats;
I shall tell them that he has be