ave gone, and gone condemned to die.
The moment fate had again saved him, Henry must remain; for Henry was
less to be feared in the Bastille or as prisoner at Vincennes than as
the King of Navarre at the head of thirty thousand men.

The Duc d'Alencon let Charles finish his chapter, and when the King had
raised his head:

"Brother," said the duke, "I have waited because your Majesty ordered me
to do so, but I regret it, because I have something of the greatest
importance to say to you."

"Go to the devil!" said Charles, whose cheeks were slowly turning a dull
red, either because he had been too much engrossed in his reading or
because the poison had begun to act. "Go to the devil! If you have come
to discuss that same subject again, you shall leave as did the King of
Poland. I rid myself of him, and I will do the same to you without
further talk about it."

"It is not about my leaving, brother, that I want to speak to you, but
about some one else who is going away. Your Majesty has touched me in my
most sensitive point, my love for you as a brother, my devotion to you
as a subject; and I hope to prove to you that I am no traitor."

"Well," said Charles, as he leaned his elbow on the book, crossed his
legs, and looked at D'Alencon like a man who is trying to be patient.
"Some fresh report, some accusation?"

"No, sire, a certainty, a plot, which my foolish scruples alone
prevented my revealing to you before."

"A plot?" said Charles, "well, let us hear about it."

"Sire," said Francois, "while your Majesty hawks near the river in the
plain of Vesinet the King of Navarre will escape to the forest of Saint
Germain, where a troop of friends will be waiting to flee with him."

"Ah, I knew it," said Charles, "another calumny against my poor Henry!
When will you be through with him?"

"Your Majesty need not wait long at least to find out whether or not
what I have just had the honor of telling you is a calumny."

"How so?"

"Because this evening our brother-in-law will be gone."

Charles rose.

"Listen," said he, "I will try for the last time to believe you; but I
warn you, both you and your mother, that it will be the last time."

Then raising his voice:

"Summon the King of Navarre!" he cried.

A guard started to obey, but Francois stopped him with a gesture.

"This is a poor way, brother, to learn anything," said he. "Henry will
deny, will give a signal, his accomplices will be warned and will
disappe