e would run at the first bullet that whistled by
his ears, while Henry of Anjou is a fighter. Yes! his sword always in
his hand, he is ever pushing forward, on foot or horseback!--forward!
thrust! overpower! kill! Ah! my brother of Anjou is a man, a valiant
soldier, who will lead them to battle from morning until night, from one
year's end to the next. He is not a hard drinker, it is true; but he
will kill in cold blood. That is all. This dear Henry will be in his
element; there! quick! quick! to battle! Sound the trumpet and the drum!
Long live the king! Long live the conqueror! Long live the general! He
will be proclaimed _imperator_ three times a year. That will be fine for
the house of France, and for the honor of the Valois; he may be killed,
but, by Heaven, it will be a glorious death!"

Catharine shuddered. Her eyes flashed fire.

"Say that you wish to send Henry of Anjou away from you," she cried,
"say that you do not love your brother!"

"Ah! ah! ah!" cried Charles, bursting into a nervous laugh, "you have
guessed, have you, that I want to send him away? You have guessed that I
do not love him? And when did you reach this conclusion? Come! Love my
brother! Why should I love him? Ah! ah! ah! Do you want to make me
laugh?"

As he spoke, his pale cheeks grew flushed with a feverish glow.

"Does he love me? Do you love me? Has any one, except my dogs, and Marie
Touchet, and my nurse, ever loved me? No! I do not love my brother, I
love only myself. Do you hear? And I shall not prevent my brother from
doing as I do."

"Sire," said Catharine, growing excited on her part, "since you have
opened your heart to me I must open mine to you. You are acting like a
weak king, like an ill-advised monarch; you are sending away your second
brother, the natural support of the throne, who is in every way worthy
to succeed you if any accident happened, in which case your crown would
be left in jeopardy. As you said, D'Alencon is young, incapable, weak,
more than weak, cowardly! And the Bearnais rises up in the background,
you understand?"

"Well, the devil!" exclaimed Charles, "what does it matter to me what
happens when I am dead? The Bearnais rises behind my brother, you say!
By Heaven! so much the better! I said that I loved no one--I was
mistaken, I love Henriot. Yes, I love this good Henriot. He has a frank
manner, a warm handshake, while I see nothing but false looks around me,
and touch, only icy hands. He is incapabl