t an unusual fire, in which
trouble was mixed with scorn and anger, shot from her eyes.

"And have you not contrived to keep Henry of Navarre, my honest Henry,
from my presence?" pursued the young King, after a pause, lifting up
his heavy head from between his hands. "He was the only being you had
left me still to love me; for my brothers hate me, both Anjou and
Alencon--both wish me dead, and would wear my crown. And who was it,
and for her own purposes, curdled the blood of the Valois in their
veins until it rankled into a poison that might have befitted the
Atrides of the tragedies of old? Henry of Navarre was the only
creature that loved me still, and your policy and intrigues, madam,
keep him from me, and so watch and harass his very steps in my own
palace of the Louvre, where he is my guest, that never can I see him
alone, or speak to him in confidence. He, too, deserts and neglects me
now; and I am alone--alone, madam, with courtiers and creatures, who
hate me too, it may be--alone, as a wretched orphan beggar by the
way-side."

"My policy, as well as what you choose to call my intrigues, my son,"
rejoined the Queen, "have ever been directed to your interests and
welfare. You are aware that Henry of Navarre has conspired against the
peace of our realm, against your crown, may-be against your life.
Would you condemn that care which would prevent the renewal of such
misdeeds, when your own sister--when his wife--leagues herself in
secret with your enemies!"

"Ay! Margaret too!" muttered Charles with bitterness. "Was the list of
the Atrides not yet complete?"

"The dictates of my love and affection, of my solicitude for my son,
and for his weal--such have been the main-springs of my intrigues,"
pursued the mother in a cajoling tone.

"The intrigues of the house of Medicis!" murmured the King, with a
mocking laugh.

"What would you have me to do more, my son?" continued the
Queen-mother.

"Nothing," replied Charles, "nothing but leave me--leave me, as others
have done, to die alone!"

"My son, I will leave you shortly, and if it so please our Blessed
Virgin, to a little repose, and a better frame of mind," said
Catherine of Medicis. "But I came to speak to you of matters of
weight, and of such deep importance that they brook no delay."

"I am unfitted for all matters of state--my head is weary, my limbs
ache, my heart burns with a torturing fire--I cannot listen to you
now, madam," pursued the King langu