id she.

"Do I want them? what a question! What should I do without them, and
reduced to my own resources?"

"Well, sire, the king wishes to detach your best servants from you."

"I defy him."

"Bravo, sire!" said Chicot.

"Yes," said Henri, with that apparent candor, with which to the end of
his life he deceived people, "for my followers are attached to me
through love, and not through interest; I have nothing to give them."

"You give them all your heart and your faith, sire; it is the best
return a king can make his friends."

"Yes, ma mie, I shall not fail to do so till I find that they do not
merit it."

"Well, sire, they wish to make you believe that they do not."

"Ah! but how?"

"I cannot tell you, sire, without compromising--" and she glanced at
Chicot.

"Dear M. Chicot," said Henri, "pray wait for me in my room, the queen
has something particular to say to me."

CHAPTER XLVII.

THE EXPLANATION.

To get rid of a witness whom Marguerite believed to know more of Latin
than he allowed was already a triumph, or at least a pledge of security
for her; for alone with her husband she could give whatever translation
of the Latin that she pleased.

Henri and his wife were then left tete-a-tete. He had on his face no
appearance of disquietude or menace; decidedly he could not understand
Latin.

"Monsieur," said Marguerite, "I wait for you to interrogate me."

"This letter preoccupies you much, ma mie; do not alarm yourself thus."

"Sire, because a king does not send a special messenger to another
without some reason that he believes important."

"Well ma mie, let us leave it for the present; have you not something
like a ball this evening?"

"Yes, sire," said Marguerite, astonished, "but that is not
extraordinary; you know we dance nearly every evening."

"I have a great chase for to-morrow."

"Each our pleasure, sire; you love the chase, I the dance."

"Yes, ma mie, and there is no harm in that," said Henri, sighing.

"Certainly not; but your majesty sighed as you said it."

"Listen to me, madame; I am uneasy."

"About what, sire?"

"About a current report."

"A report; your majesty uneasy about a report?"

"What more simple; when this report may annoy you."

"Me?"--"Yes, you."

"Sire, I do not understand you."

"Have you heard nothing?"

Marguerite began to tremble. "I am the least curious woman in the
world," said she, "I hear nothing but what is cried in my very ear