he purpose of protecting him
from any popular outbreak, but in reality, as it subsequently
appeared, to guard against his escape through the intervention of his
friends. He also, with consummate perfidy, urged the Protestants in
the city to occupy quarters near together, that, in case of trouble,
they might more easily be protected by him, and might more
effectually aid one another. His real object, however, was to assemble
them in more convenient proximity for the slaughter to which they were
doomed. The Protestants were in the deepest perplexity. They were not
sure but that all their apprehensions were groundless; and yet they
knew not but that in the next hour some fearful battery would be
unmasked for their destruction. They were unarmed, unorganized, and
unable to make any preparation to meet an unknown danger. Catharine,
whose depraved yet imperious spirit was guiding with such consummate
duplicity all this enginery of intrigue, hourly administered the
stimulus of her own stern will to sustain the faltering purpose of her
equally depraved but fickle-minded and imbecile son.

Some circumstances seem to indicate that Charles was not an accomplice
with his mother in the attempt upon the life of the admiral. She said
to her son, "Notwithstanding all your protestations, the deed will
certainly be laid to your charge. Civil war will again be enkindled.
The chiefs of the Protestants are now all in Paris. You had better
gain the victory at once here than incur the hazard of a new
campaign."

"Well, then," said Charles, petulantly, "since you approve the murder
of the admiral, I am content. But let all the Huguenots also fall,
that there may not be one left to reproach me."

It was on Friday, the 22d of August, that the bullets of the assassin
wounded Coligni. The next day Henry called again, with his bride, to
visit his friend, whose finger had been amputated, and who was
suffering extreme pain from the wound in his arm. Marguerite had but
few sympathies with the scenes which are to be witnessed in the
chamber of sickness. She did not conceal her impatience, but, after a
few commonplace phrases of condolence with her husband's bosom friend,
she hastened away, leaving Henry to perform alone the offices of
friendly sympathy.

While the young King of Navarre was thus sitting at the bedside of the
admiral, recounting to him the assurances of faith and honor given by
Catharine and her son, the question was then under disc