the sweetest, the most delicate, and the most desirable of
all pleasures. So she felt that the days, if not happily filled, were at
least happily ended. When, at about nine o'clock every evening, she
stepped out on her balcony in a white dressing-gown, she perceived in
the darkness of the quay a horseman whose hand was raised first to his
lips, then to his heart. Then a significant cough reminded the lover of
a cherished voice. Sometimes a note was thrown by a little hand, and in
the note was hidden some costly jewel, precious not on account of its
value, but because it had belonged to her who threw it; and this would
fall on the pavement a few feet from the young man. Then La Mole would
swoop down on it like a kite, press it to his heart, answer in the same
voice, while Marguerite stood at her balcony until the sound of the
horse's hoofs had died away in the darkness. The steed, ridden at full
speed when coming, on leaving seemed as if made of material as lifeless
as that of the famous horse which lost Troy.

This was why the queen was not anxious as to the fate of La Mole. But
fearing that he might be watched and followed she persistently refused
all interviews except these clandestine ones, which began immediately
after La Mole's flight and continued every evening until the time set
for the formal reception of the ambassadors, a reception which by the
express orders of Ambroise Pare, as we have seen, was postponed for
several days.

The evening before this reception, at about nine o'clock, when every one
in the Louvre was engaged in preparations for the following day,
Marguerite opened her window and stepped out upon her balcony. As she
did so, without waiting for her note, La Mole, in greater haste than
usual, threw his note which with his usual skill fell at the feet of his
royal mistress.

Marguerite realized that the missive contained something special, and
retired from the balcony to read it. The note consisted of two separate
sheets.

On the first page were these words:

"_Madame, I must speak to the King of Navarre. The matter is urgent. I
will wait._"

On the second page were these words:

"_My lady and my queen, arrange so that I may give you one of the
kisses I now send you. I will wait._"

Marguerite had scarcely finished the second part of the letter when she
heard the voice of Henry of Navarre, who with his usual caution had
knocked on the outer door, and was asking Gillonne if he mi