was some time gone; Guise was
in a hurry, and, "Be kind enough," he said to M. de Morfontaines, "to
send word to M. de Saint-Prix [first groom of the chamber to Henry
III.], that I beg him to let me have a few damsons or a little preserve
of roses, or some trifle of the king's." Four Brignolles plums were
brought him; and he ate one. His uneasiness continued; the eye close to
his scar became moist; according to M. de Thou, he bled at the nose. He
felt in his pocket for a handkerchief to use, but could not find one.
"My people," said he, "have not given me my necessaries this morning:
there is great excuse for them; they were too much hurried." At his
request, Saint-Prix had a handkerchief brought to him. Pericard passed
his bonbon-box to him, as the guards would not let him enter again. The
duke took a few plums from it, threw the rest on the table, saying,
"Gentlemen, who will have any?" and rose up hurriedly upon seeing the
secretary of state Revol, who came in and said to him, "Sir, the king
wants you; he is in his old cabinet."

As soon as he knew that the Duke of Guise had arrived, and whilst these
little incidents were occurring in the council-chamber, Henry III. had in
fact given orders to his secretary Revol to go on his behalf and summon
the duke. But Nambu, usher to the council, faithful to his instructions,
had refused to let anybody, even the king's secretary, enter the hall.
Revol, of a timid disposition, and impressed, it is said, with the
sinister importance of his commission, returned to the cabinet with a
very troubled air. The king, in his turn, was troubled, fearing lest his
project had been discovered. "What is the matter, Revol?" said he; "what
is it? How pale you are! You will spoil all. Rub your cheeks; rub your
cheeks." "There is nothing wrong, sir: only M. de Nambu would not let
me in without your Majesty's express command." Revol entered the
council-chamber and discharged his commission. The Duke of Guise pulled
up his cloak as if to wrap himself well in it, took his hat, gloves, and
his sweetmeat-box, and went out of the room, saying, "Adieu, gentlemen,"
with a gravity free from any appearance of mistrust. He crossed the
king's chamber contiguous to the council-hall, courteously saluted, as he
passed, Loignac and his comrades, whom he found drawn up, and who,
returning him a frigid obeisance, followed him as if to show him respect.
On arriving at the door of the old cabinet, a