iling to D'Alencon, he cautiously thrust his head into
the corridor, and making sure that no one had been listening, he hurried
rapidly away, and disappeared down the private stairway which led to the
apartments of Marguerite.

As far as she was concerned, the Queen of Navarre was no less anxious
than her husband. The night's expedition sent against her and the
Duchesse de Nevers by the King, the Duc d'Anjou, the Duc de Guise, and
Henry, whom she had recognized, troubled her greatly. In all probability
there was nothing which could compromise her. The janitor unfastened
from the gate by La Mole and Coconnas had promised to be silent. But
four lords like those with whom two simple gentlemen, such as La Mole
and Coconnas, had coped, would not have gone out of their way by chance,
or without having had some reason for thus inconveniencing themselves.
Marguerite had returned at daybreak, having passed the rest of the
night with the Duchesse de Nevers. She had retired at once, but had been
unable to sleep, and had started at the slightest sound.

In the midst of this anxiety she heard some one knocking at the secret
door, and being informed that the visitor was Gillonne, she gave orders
to have her admitted.

Henry waited at the outer door. Nothing in his appearance showed the
wounded husband. His usual smile lay on his delicate lips, and not a
muscle of his face betrayed the terrible anxiety through which he had
just passed. He seemed to glance inquiringly at Marguerite to discover
if she would allow him to talk with her alone. Marguerite understood her
husband's look, and signed to Gillonne to withdraw.

"Madame," said Henry, "I know how deeply you are attached to your
friends, and I fear I bring you bad news."

"What is it, monsieur?" asked Marguerite.

"One of your dearest servants is at present greatly compromised."

"Which one?"

"The dear Count de la Mole."

"Monsieur le Comte de la Mole compromised! And why?"

"Because of the affair of last night."

In spite of her self-control Marguerite could not keep from blushing.

But she made an effort over herself.

"What affair?" she asked.

"What," said Henry, "did you not hear all the noise which was made in
the Louvre?"

"No, monsieur."

"I congratulate you, madame," said Henry, with charming simplicity.
"This proves that you are a sound sleeper."

"But what happened?"

"It seems that our good mother gave an order to Monsieur de Maurevel and
six of