eyes hidden under their white lids, her mouth rosy and half
open, her moist cheek pressed gently against one of her gracefully
rounded arms, while the other arm, fresh and pearly, was thrown across
the crimson damask which served as counterpane, the beautiful young
woman lay sleeping with a smile still on her lips. No doubt some sweet
dream brought the smile to her lips, and to her cheek the flush of
health which nothing could disturb. Catharine could not refrain from
uttering a cry of surprise which roused Dariole for a moment. The queen
mother hastily stepped behind the curtains of the bed.

Dariole opened her eyes, but overcome with sleep, without even wondering
in her drowsy mind why she had wakened, the young girl dropped her heavy
lids and slept again.

Then Catharine came from behind the curtain, and glancing at the other
objects in the room, saw on a table a bottle of Spanish wine, some
fruit, pastry, and two glasses. Henry must have had supper with the
baroness, who apparently was as well as himself. Walking on tiptoe,
Catharine took up the small silver box that was partly empty. It was the
same or very similar to the one she had sent to Charlotte. She removed
from it a piece as large as a pearl on the point of a gold needle,
returned to her room, and gave it to the little ape which Henry had
brought her that evening. Attracted by the aromatic odor the animal
devoured it eagerly, and turning around in his basket, went to sleep.
Catharine waited a quarter of an hour.

"With half of what he has just eaten," said she, "my dog Brutus died,
swelling up instantly. Some one has played me a trick. Is it Rene?
Impossible. Then it is Henry. O fatality! It is very evident that since
he is to reign he cannot die. But perhaps the poison was not strong
enough. We shall see by trying steel."

And Catharine went to bed revolving in her mind a fresh idea which no
doubt was perfected the following day; for she called her captain of the
guards to her, gave him a letter, ordered him to take it to its address
and to deliver it only into the hands of the one for whom it was
intended. It was addressed to the Sire de Louviers de Maurevel, Captain
of the King's Petard Makers, Rue de la Cerisaie, near the Arsenal.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

THE LETTER FROM ROME.

Several days elapsed after the events we have just described, when one
morning a litter escorted by several gentlemen wearing the colors of
Monsieur de Guise entered th