stello nomine Loignac.' Mon Dieu! how I regret
that my knowledge is not as great as my memory is good."
"Ambo nocentes," repeated Marguerite, in a low voice, and turning very
pale, "he understood it all."
"Margota cum Turennio, ambo nocentes," repeated Henri. "What the devil
could my brother mean by 'ambo!' Ventre St. Gris, ma mie, it is
astonishing that you who know Latin so well have not yet explained it to
me. Ah! pardieu! there is 'Turennius' walking under your windows, and
looking up as if he expected you. I will call to him to come up; he is
very learned, and he will explain it to me."
"Sire, sire, be superior to all the calumniators of France."
"Oh! ma mie, it seems to me that people are not more indulgent in
Navarre than in France; you, yourself, were very severe about poor
Fosseuse just now."
"I severe?"
"Yes; and yet we ought to be indulgent here, we lead such a happy life,
you with your balls, and I with my chase."
"Yes, yes, sire; you are right; let us be indulgent."
"Oh! I was sure of your heart, ma mie."
"You know me well, sire."
"Yes. Then you will go and see Fosseuse?"
"Yes, sire."
"And separate her from the others?"
"Yes, sire."
"And send her your doctor?"
"Yes, sire."
"And if, unluckily, what you say were true, and she had been weak, for
women are frail--"
"Well, sire, I am a woman, and know the indulgence due to my sex."
"All! you know all things, ma mie; you are in truth a model of
perfection, and I kiss your hands."
"But believe, sire, that it is for the love of you alone that I make
this sacrifice."
"Oh! yes, ma mie, I know you well, madame, and my brother of France
also, he who speaks so well of you in this letter, and adds, 'Fiat sanum
exemplum statim, atque res certior eveniet.' Doubtless, ma mie, it is
you who give this good example."
And Henri kissed the cold hand of Marguerite. Then, turning on the
threshold of the door, he said:
"Say everything kind from me to Fosseuse, and do for her as you have
promised me. I set off for the chase; perhaps I shall not see you till
my return, perhaps never--these wolves are wicked beasts. Come, and let
me embrace you, ma mie."
Then he embraced Marguerite, almost affectionately, and went out,
leaving her stupefied with all she had heard.
CHAPTER XLVIII.
THE SPANISH AMBASSADOR.
The king rejoined Chicot, who was still agitated with fears as to the
explanation.
"Well, Chicot," said Henri,
|