itle
to throw Rene off the track.
They left.
"Oh, mother, you see," said Henry, "an accident--and if an accident
should happen, I shall not be on hand; I shall be four hundred leagues
from you"--
"Four hundred leagues are accomplished in eight days, my son."
"Yes; but how do I know whether those Poles will let me come back? If I
could only wait, mother!"
"Who knows?" said Catharine; "might not this accident of which Rene
speaks be the one which since yesterday has laid the King on a bed of
pain? Listen, return by yourself, my child. I shall go back by the
private door of the monastery of the Augustines. My suite is waiting for
me in this convent. Go, now, Henry, go, and keep from irritating your
brother in case you see him."
CHAPTER XLII.
CONFIDENCES.
The first thing the Duc d'Anjou heard on arriving at the Louvre was that
the formal reception of the ambassadors was arranged for the fifth day
from that. The tailors and the jewellers were waiting for the prince
with magnificent clothes and superb jewels which the King had ordered
for him.
While the duke tried them on with an anger which brought the tears to
his eyes, Henry of Navarre was very gay in a magnificent collar of
emeralds, a sword with a gold handle, and a precious ring which Charles
had sent him that morning.
D'Alencon had just received a letter and had shut himself up in his own
room to read it.
As to Coconnas, he was searching every corner of the Louvre for his
friend.
In fact, as may easily be imagined, he had been somewhat surprised at
not seeing La Mole return that night, and by morning had begun to feel
some anxiety.
Consequently he had started out to find his friend. He began his search
at the Hotel de la Belle Etoile, went from there to the Rue Cloche
Percee, from the Rue Cloche Percee to the Rue Tizon, from there to the
Pont Saint Michel, and finally from the Pont Saint Michel to the Louvre.
This search, so far as those who had been questioned were concerned, had
been carried on in a way so original and exacting (which may easily be
believed when one realizes the eccentric character of Coconnas) that it
had caused some explanations between him and three courtiers. These
explanations had ended, as was the fashion of the times, on the ground.
In these encounters Coconnas had been as conscientious as he usually was
in affairs of that kind, and had killed the first man and wounded the
two others, saying:
"Poor
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