neck of the corpse, and threw it into the lake. He then
washed his hands in the water, took in his arms Diana, who was still
unconscious, and placed her again on her horse. That of Aurilly,
frightened by the howling of the wolves, which began to draw nearer, had
fled into the woods.

When Diana recovered herself, she and Remy, without exchanging a single
word, continued their route toward Chateau-Thierry.

CHAPTER LXXVII.

HOW KING HENRI III. DID NOT INVITE CRILLON TO BREAKFAST, AND HOW CHICOT
INVITED HIMSELF.

The day after the events that we have just related had taken place in
the forest of La Fere, the king of France left his bath at about nine in
the morning. His valet-de-chambre, after having rolled him in a blanket
of fine wool, and sponged him with that thick Persian wadding which
looks like the fleece of a sheep, had given him over to the barbers and
dressers, who in their turn gave place to the perfumers and courtiers.
When these last were gone, the king sent for his maitre d'hotel, and
ordered something more than his ordinary bouillon, as he felt hungry
that morning. This good news spread joy throughout the Louvre, and the
smell of the viands was already beginning to be perceptible, when
Crillon, colonel of the French guards, entered to take his majesty's
orders.

"Ma foi, my good Crillon," said the king, "watch as you please over my
safety, but do not force me to play the king. I am quite joyful and gay
this morning, and feel as if I weighed but an ounce, and could fly away.
I am hungry, Crillon; do you understand that, my friend?"

"I understand it very well, sire, for I am very hungry myself."

"Oh! you, Crillon," said the king, laughing, "are always hungry."

"Not always, sire; your majesty exaggerates--only three times a day."

"And I about once a year, when I receive good news."

"Harnibleu! it appears that you have received good news, sire? So much
the better, for they become every day more rare."

"Not at all, Crillon; but you know the proverb."

"Ah! yes--'no news are good news.' I do not trust to proverbs, and above
all to that one. You have no news from Navarre, then?"

"None--a proof that there is nothing to tell."

"And from Flanders?"

"Nothing."

"A proof that they are fighting. And from Paris?"

"Nothing."

"A proof that they are plotting."

"But, Crillon, I believe I am going to have a child, for the queen
dreamed so last night."

"Well! I am happy to hear th