, the rigid and vigilant counselor of Henri of Navarre.

"Ah!" thought Chicot, "this will annoy our lover more than I did."

But Henri's face showed only joy; and after locking the door, he sat
down eagerly to examine some maps, plans, and letters, which his
minister had brought him. The king then began to write and to mark the
maps.

"Oh! this is the way Henri of Navarre makes love," thought Chicot.

At this moment he heard steps behind him, and fearful of being
surprised, he turned hastily away, and, seeing the page, asked for his
room.

"Come with me, if you please, monsieur," said D'Aubiac, "and I will
conduct you."

Chicot began to understand the king of Navarre. Therefore, instead of
going to sleep, he sat somber and thoughtful on his bed, while the moon
shed its silver light over stream and meadows.

"Henri is a real king, and he conspires," thought Chicot. "All this
palace, park, town--the whole province--is a focus of conspiracy. All
the women make love, but it is political love; and all the men live in
the hope of a future. Henri is clever, his talent borders on genius, and
he is in communication with Spain, the land of deceit. Who knows if even
his noble answer to the ambassador was not a farce, and if he did not
warn the ambassador of it by some sign unknown to me? Henri has spies;
those beggars were nothing more nor less than gentlemen in disguise.
Those pieces of gold, so artistically cut, were pledges of
recognition--rallying signs.

"Henri feigns to care for nothing but love and pleasure, and then passes
his time working with Mornay, who never seems to sleep, and does not
know what love means. Queen Marguerite has lovers, and the king knows
it, and tolerates them, because he has need of them, or of her--perhaps
of both. Happily, God, in giving him the genius for intrigue, did not
add to it that of war; for they say he is afraid of the noise of
musketry, and that when he was taken, when quite young, to battle, he
could not stay more than a quarter of an hour in the saddle. It is
lucky, for if he had the arm, as well as the head, this man might do
anything.

"There is certainly the Duc de Guise, who has both, but he has the
disadvantage of being known as brave and skillful, so that every one is
on their guard against him, while no one fears the Bearnais. I alone
have seen through him. Well, having seen through him, I have no more to
do here; so while he works or sleeps, I will go quietly out of