y be destroyed by a hasty word."

"Monsieur, my crown is so light that I should scarcely feel the
difference if it slipped off; besides, I believe I can guard it.
Therefore, once more adieu, monsieur, and tell the king your master that
I have greater ambitions than he dreams of." And the Bearnais, becoming
once more, not himself, but what he generally seemed to be, conducted
the ambassador, with a courteous smile, to the door.

CHAPTER XLIX.

THE POOR OF HENRI OF NAVARRE.

Chicot remained plunged in profound surprise. Henri lifted the tapestry,
and, striking him on the shoulder, said:

"Well, M. Chicot, how do you think I managed?"

"Wonderfully, sire; and really, for a king who is not accustomed to
ambassadors--"

"It is my brother Henri who sends me such ambassadors."

"How so, sire?"

"If he did not incessantly persecute his poor sister, others would not
dream of it. Do you believe that if the king of Spain had not heard of
the public insult offered to the queen, when a captain of the guards
searched her litter, that he would have proposed to me to repudiate
her?"

"I see with pleasure, sire," replied Chicot, "that all attempts will be
useless, and that nothing can interrupt the harmony that exists between
the queen and yourself."

"Oh, my friend, the interest they have in making us quarrel is too
clear."

"I confess to you, sire, that I am not so penetrating as you are."

"Doubtless Henri would be delighted if I repudiated his sister."

"How so? Pray explain to me."

"You know they forgot to pay me my wife's dowry."

"I guessed as much, sire."

"This dowry was to consist of 300,000 golden crowns and some towns;
among others, Cahors."

"A pretty town, mordieu!"

"I have claimed, not the money, but Cahors."

"Ventre de biche! sire, in your place, I should have done the same."

"And that is why--do you understand now?"

"No, indeed, sire."

"Why they wish me to quarrel with my wife and repudiate her. No wife, no
dowry, no more 300,000 crowns, no Cahors. It is one way of eluding a
promise, and Henri is clever in laying snares."

"You would much like to hold Cahors, sire?"

"Doubtless; for after all, what is my principality of Bearn? A poor
little place, clipped by the avarice of my mother-in-law and
brother-in-law."

"While Cahors--"

"Cahors would be my rampart, the safeguard of my religion."

"Well, sire, go into mourning for Cahors; for, whether you break with
Madame Mar