nd to the small private stairway by
which one reached the apartments of the Duc d'Alencon and Henry.
Although it was scarcely nine o'clock, all the lights were extinguished,
and the corridor, except for the dim glimmer which came from the side
hall, was quite dark. The Queen of Navarre advanced boldly. When she had
gone about a third of the distance she heard whispering which sounded
mysterious and startling from an evident effort made to suppress it. It
ceased almost instantly, as if by order from some superior, and silence
was restored. The light, dim as it was, seemed to grow less. Marguerite
walked on directly into the face of the danger if danger there was. To
all appearances she was calm, although her clinched hands indicated a
violent nervous tension. As she approached, the intense silence
increased, while a shadow like that of a hand obscured the wavering and
uncertain light.

At the point where the transverse hall crossed the main corridor a man
sprang in front of the queen, uncovered a red candlestick, and cried
out:

"Here he is!"

Marguerite stood face to face with her brother Charles. Behind him, a
silken cord in hand, was the Duc d'Alencon. At the rear, in the
darkness, stood two figures side by side, reflecting no light other than
that of the drawn swords which they held in their hands. Marguerite saw
everything at a glance. Making a supreme effort, she said smilingly to
Charles:

"You mean, here _she_ is, sire!"

Charles recoiled. The others stood motionless.

"You, Margot!" said he. "Where are you going at this hour?"

"At this hour!" said Marguerite. "Is it so late?"

"I ask where you are going?"

"To find a book of Cicero's speeches, which I think I left at our
mother's."

"Without a light?"

"I supposed the corridor was lighted."

"Do you come from your own apartments?"

"Yes."

"What are you doing this evening?"

"Preparing my address for the Polish ambassadors. Is there not a council
to-morrow? and does not each one have to submit his address to your
Majesty?"

"Have you not some one helping you with this work?"

Marguerite summoned all her strength.

"Yes, brother," said she, "Monsieur de la Mole. He is very learned."

"So much so," said the Duc d'Alencon, "that I asked him when he had
finished with you, sister, to come and help me, for I am not as clever
as you are."

"And were you waiting for him?" asked Marguerite as naturally as
possible.

"Yes," said D'Alencon,