away from it."

"Ah! this explains an enigma, the answer to which I could not make out,"
said Marguerite. "I had left my window open, and found, on coming back
to my room, a note on my floor."

"There now," said Henry.

"A note which at first I could not understand, and to which I attached
no importance whatsoever," continued Marguerite. "Perhaps I was wrong,
and that it comes from that quarter."

"That is possible," said Henry; "I might even say probable. Might I see
this note?"

"Certainly, sire," replied Marguerite, handing to the king the missive
she had put into her pocket. The king glanced at it.

"Is it not Monsieur de la Mole's handwriting?" said he.

"I do not know," replied Marguerite. "It looks to me like a
counterfeit."

"No matter, let us read it." And he read:

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

"So!" said Henry--"you see, he says he will wait."

"Certainly I see that," said Marguerite. "But what would you expect?"

"Why! _ventre saint gris!_ I expect that he is waiting!"

"That he is waiting!" cried Marguerite, looking at her husband in
astonishment. "How can you say such a thing, sire? A man whom the King
tried to kill--a man who is watched, threatened--waiting, you say! Would
that be possible?--are the doors made for those who have been"--

"Obliged to escape by the window--you were going to say?"

"Yes, you have finished my sentence."

"Well, but if they know the way by the window, let them take it, since
it is perfectly impossible for them to enter by the door. It is very
simple."

"Do you think so?" said Marguerite, flushing with pleasure at the
thought of again being near La Mole.

"I am sure of it."

"But how could one reach the window?" asked the queen.

"Did you not keep the rope ladder I sent you? Where is your usual
foresight?"

"Yes, sire, I kept it," said Marguerite.

"In that case there will be no difficulty," said Henry.

"What does your majesty wish?"

"Why, it is very simple," said Henry. "Fasten it to your balcony and let
it hang down. If it is De Mouy who is waiting and he wants to mount it,
he will do so."

Without losing his gravity Henry took the candle to aid Marguerite in
her search for the ladder. They did not have to look long; it was in a
wardrobe in the famous closet.

"There it is," said Henry; "now, madame, if I am not asking too much,
fasten it to the balcony, I beg you."

"Why should I fa