nd I am anxious to know that my hope
is well founded. It is quite certain that our marriage is merely a
pretext or a snare."

Marguerite started, for perhaps the same thought had occurred to her own
mind.

"Now, then, which of the two?" continued Henri de Navarre. "The king
hates me; the Duc d'Anjou hates me; the Duc d'Alencon hates me;
Catherine de Medicis hated my mother too much not to hate me."

"Oh, Monsieur, what are you saying?"

"The truth, madame," replied the king; "and in order that it may not be
supposed that I am deceived as to Monsieur de Mouy's assassination and
the poisoning of my mother, I wish that some one were here who could
hear me."

"Oh, sire," replied Marguerite, with an air as calm and smiling as she
could assume, "you know very well that there is no person here but you
and myself."

"It is for that very reason that I thus give vent to my thoughts; this
it is that emboldens me to declare that I am not deceived by the
caresses showered on me by the House of France or the House of
Lorraine."

"Sire, sire!" exclaimed Marguerite.

"Well, what is it, _ma mie_?" inquired Henry, smiling in his turn.

"Why, sire, such remarks are very dangerous."

"Not when we are alone," observed the king. "I was saying"--

Marguerite was evidently distressed; she desired to stop every word the
king uttered, but he continued, with his apparent good nature:

"I was telling you that I was threatened on all sides: threatened by the
King, threatened by the Duc d'Alencon, threatened by the Duc d'Anjou,
threatened by the queen mother, threatened by the Duc de Guise, by the
Duc de Mayenne, by the Cardinal de Lorraine--threatened, in fact, by
every one. One feels that instinctively, as you know, madame. Well,
against all these threats, which must soon become attacks, I can defend
myself by your aid, for you are beloved by all the persons who detest
me."

"I?" said Marguerite.

"Yes, you," replied Henry, with the utmost ease of manner; "yes, you are
beloved by King Charles, you are beloved" (he laid strong emphasis on
the word) "by the Duc d'Alencon, you are beloved by Queen Catharine, and
you are beloved by the Duc de Guise."

"Sire!" murmured Marguerite.

"Yes; and what is there astonishing in the fact that every one loves
you? All I have mentioned are your brothers or relatives. To love one's
brothers and relatives is to live according to God's heart."

"But what, then," asked Marguerite, greatly overc