I desire nothing but the
continued good health of the King."

"In that case you will be glad to know, D'Alencon, that the
indisposition I experienced at the time the Poles arrived has passed by.
Thanks to Henriot, I escaped a furious wild boar, which would have
ripped me open, and I am so well that I do not envy the most healthy man
in my kingdom. Without being an unkind brother you can, therefore, ask
for something besides the continuation of my health, which is
excellent."

"I want nothing, sire."

"Yes, yes, Francois," said Charles, impatiently, "you desire the crown
of Navarre, since you have had an understanding with Henriot and De
Mouy,--with the first, that he would abdicate; with the second, that he
would give it to you. Well! Henriot renounces it! De Mouy has told me of
your wish, and this crown for which you are ambitious"--

"Well?" asked D'Alencon in a trembling voice.

"Well, the devil! it is yours."

D'Alencon turned frightfully pale; then suddenly the blood rushed from
his heart, which almost burst, flowed to his face, and his cheeks became
suffused with a burning flush. The favor the King granted him at that
moment threw him into despair.

"But, sire," said he, trembling with emotion and trying in vain to
recover his self-possession, "I never desired and certainly never asked
for such a thing."

"That is possible," said the King, "for you are very discreet, brother;
but it has been desired and asked for you."

"Sire, I swear to you that never"--

"Do not swear."

"But, sire, are you going to exile me, then?"

"Do you call this exile, Francois? Plague it, you are hard to please!
What better do you hope for?"

D'Alencon bit his lips in despair.

"Faith!" continued Charles, affecting kindness, "I did not think you
were so popular, Francois, especially with the Huguenots. But they have
sought you, and I have to confess to myself that I was mistaken.
Besides, I could ask nothing better than to have one of my family--my
brother who loves me and who is incapable of betraying me--at the head
of a party which for thirty years has made war against us. This will
quell everything as if by enchantment, to say nothing of the fact that
we shall all be kings in the family. There will be no one except poor
Henriot who will be nothing but my friend. But he is not ambitious and
he shall take this title which no one else claims."

"Oh, sire! you are mistaken. I claim this title, and who has a better
rig