pensioned oracles had declared that she should live to
see each of her sons crowned, by which prediction probably they had only
purposed to flatter her pride and her love of dominion. They, however,
ended in terrifying the credulous queen; and she, dreading to witness a
throne in France, disputed perhaps by fratricides, anxiously sought a
separate crown for each of her three sons. She had been trifled with in
her earnest negotiations with our Elizabeth; twice had she seen herself
baffled in her views in the Dukes of Alencon and of Anjou. Catharine
then projected a new empire for Anjou, by incorporating into one kingdom
Algiers, Corsica, and Sardinia; but the other despot, he of
Constantinople, Selim the Second, dissipated the brilliant speculation
of our female Machiavel. Charles the Ninth was sickly, jealous, and
desirous of removing from the court the Duke of Anjou, whom two
victories had made popular, though he afterwards sunk into a
Sardanapalus. Montluc penetrated into the secret wishes of Catharine and
Charles, and suggested to them the possibility of encircling the brows
of Anjou with the diadem of Poland, the Polish monarch then being in a
state of visible decline. The project was approved; and, like a profound
politician, the bishop prepared for an event which might be remote, and
always problematical, by sending into Poland a natural son of his,
Balagny, as a disguised agent; his youth, his humble rank, and his love
of pleasure, would not create any alarm among the neighbouring powers,
who were alike on the watch to snatch the expected spoil; but as it was
necessary to have a more dexterous politician behind the curtain, he
recommended his secretary, Choisnin, as a travelling tutor to a youth
who appeared to want one.

Balagny proceeded to Poland, where, under the veil of dissipation, and
in the midst of splendid festivities, with his trusty adjutant, this
hair-brained boy of revelry began to weave those intrigues which were
afterwards to be knotted, or untied, by Montluc himself. He had
contrived to be so little suspected, that the agent of the emperor had
often disclosed important secrets to his young and amiable friend. On
the death of Sigismond Augustus, Balagny, leaving Choisnin behind to
trumpet forth the virtues of Anjou, hastened to Paris to give an account
of all which he had seen or heard. But poor Choisnin found himself in a
dilemma among those who had so long listened to his panegyrics on the
huma