ois de Louviers
Maurevel?"

"Yes, sire."

"Captain of petardeers?"

"Yes, sire."

"I wanted to see you."

Maurevel made a low bow.

"You know," continued Charles, laying a stress on each word, "that I
love all my subjects equally?"

"I know," stammered Maurevel, "that your Majesty is the father of your
people."

"And that the Huguenots and Catholics are equally my children?"

Maurevel remained silent, but his agitation was manifest to the King's
piercing eyes, although the person whom he was addressing was almost
concealed in the darkness.

"Does this displease you," said the King, "you who have waged such a
bitter war on the Huguenots?"

Maurevel fell on his knees.

"Sire," stammered he, "believe that"--

"I believe," continued Charles, looking more and more keenly at
Maurevel, while his eyes, which at first had seemed like glass, now
became almost fiery, "I believe that you had a great desire at
Moncontour to kill the admiral, who has just left me; I believe you
missed your aim, and that then you entered the army of my brother, the
Duc d'Anjou; I believe that then you went for a second time over to the
prince's and there took service in the company of M. de Mouy de Saint
Phale"--

"Oh, sire!"

"A brave gentleman from Picardy"--

"Sire, sire!" cried Maurevel, "do not overwhelm me."

"He was a brave officer," continued Charles, whose features assumed an
aspect of almost ferocious cruelty, "who received you as if you had been
his son; fed you, lodged you, and clothed you."

Maurevel uttered a despairing sigh.

"You called him your father, I believe," continued the King, pitilessly,
"and a tender friendship existed between you and the young De Mouy, his
son."

Maurevel, still on his knees, bowed low, more and more crushed under the
indignation of the King, who stood immovable, like a statue whose lips
only are endowed with vitality.

"By the way," continued the King, "M. de Guise was to give you ten
thousand crowns if you killed the admiral--was he not?"

The assassin in consternation struck his forehead against the floor.

"As regards your worthy father, the Sieur de Mouy, you were one day
acting as his escort in a reconnaissance toward Chevreux. He dropped his
whip and dismounted to pick it up. You were alone with him; you took a
pistol from your holster, and while he was bending over, you shot him in
the back; then seeing he was dead--for you killed him on the spot--you
escaped on the