ers carried horns wound with scarfs, in case
the King, as sometimes happened, grew weary of hawking, and wished to
hunt a deer or a chamois.

Charles closed the door of his armory and descended. D'Alencon watched
each movement closely, and saw him put the key in his pocket.

As he went down the stairs Charles stopped and raised his hand to his
head.

The limbs of the Duc d'Alencon trembled no less than did those of the
King.

"It seems to me," said the duke, "that there is going to be a storm."

"A storm in January!" said Charles; "you are mad. No, I am dizzy, my
skin is dry, I am weak, that is all."

Then in a low tone:

"They will kill me," he murmured, "with their hatred and their plots."

But on reaching the court the fresh morning air, the shouts of the
hunters, the loud greetings of the hundred people gathered there,
produced their usual effect on Charles.

He breathed freely and happily. His first thought was for Henry, who was
beside Marguerite.

This excellent couple seemed to care so much for each other that they
were unable to be apart.

On perceiving Charles, Henry spurred his horse, and in three bounds was
beside him.

"Ah, ah!" said Charles, "you are mounted as if you were going to hunt
the stag, Henriot; but you know we are going hawking to-day."

Then without waiting for a reply:

"Forward, gentlemen, forward! we must be hunting by nine o'clock!" and
Charles frowned and spoke in an almost threatening tone.

Catharine was watching everything from a window, behind which a curtain
was drawn back, showing her pale face. She herself was dressed in black
and was hidden from view.

At the order from Charles all this gilded, embroidered, perfumed crowd,
with the King at its head, lengthened out to pass through the gate of
the Louvre, and swept like an avalanche along the road to Saint Germain,
amid the shouts of the people, who saluted the young King as he rode by,
thoughtful and pensive, on his white horse.

"What did he say to you?" asked Marguerite of Henry.

"He congratulated me on the speed of my horse."

"Was that all?"

"Yes."

"Then he suspects something."

"I fear so."

"Let us be cautious."

Henry's face lighted up with one of his beautiful smiles, which meant
especially to Marguerite, "Be easy, my love." As to Catharine, scarcely
had the cortege left the court of the Louvre before she dropped the
curtain.

But she had not failed to see one thing, namely, Henry's pall