mother,
as she had herself admitted, that he _must die_; but yet, with so much
artifice and intrigue did she envelope in mystery his lost condition,
that, even in the Palace of the Louvre, his own nearest relations were
ignorant how near approached the hour, which, by leaving the crown as
heirloom to a successor far away in a distant country, opened a field to
the ambitious designs of so many struggling parties in the state.

Unconscious, as many others, of the rapid advance of that fatal event,
sat in her chamber Margaret of Valois, Queen of Navarre, the sister of
the dying king. Her beautiful head was reclined languidly against the
tapestry of the wall, the dark colours of which formed an admirable
background to that brilliant and bejewelled portrait. A lute, of the
fashion of the day, lay upon her lap; music, dresses, scraps of poetry
in her own handwriting, caskets with jewellery, manuscripts, and
illuminated volumes, were littered in various parts of the room. A
handsome spaniel slumbered at her feet; whilst two of her ladies sat on
chests at a respectful distance, occupied in embroidery. A look of soft
pensiveness pervaded the delicate and highly expressive features of the
young Queen; but her thoughts were not bent, at that moment, either on
her suffering brother, or on those ambitious views for her husband,
which, spite of her little affection for him, she entertained, partly
out of a sort of friendship for the man she esteemed, although her hand
had been so unwillingly bestowed upon him; partly out of that innate
ambition and love of intrigue, which formed, more or less one ingredient
in the character of all the children of the crafty Catherine de Medicis.
No! they rambled unrestrained upon the souvenir of an object of woman's
preference and princess's caprice, who for some time past had no more
crossed her path. It was on that account her brow was clouded, and that
a trait of sadness shaded her smiling mouth.

As she still lay thus languidly, one of the ladies was called by an
officer from the room, and shortly returned to announce that there was a
young girl without, who besought, with earnest supplication, to see her
Majesty.

Although astonished at this request, Margaret, eager for any subject of
passing occupation that might enliven, even for a moment, an hour's
ennui, desired that she might be admitted; and shortly after a simply
dressed girl, whose sunken head could not conceal her exquisite beauty,