had spoken, as if it were quite a natural
thing, of going to visit the gibbet at Montfaucon, or, in other words, the
mutilated body of the admiral, which was suspended from it. Henry's first
impulse had been to make an excuse for not joining the party. Catharine
was looking out for this, and at the very first word that he uttered
expressive of his repugnance, she exchanged a glance and a smile with the
Duke of Guise. Henry, whom nothing escaped, caught both smile and glance,
underwent them, and hastened to correct his blunder.

"After all," said he, "why should I not go? I am a Catholic, and owe as
much to my new religion." Then addressing himself to the king:--"Your
majesty may reckon upon me," said he; "I shall always be happy to
accompany you wherever you go."

In the whole procession, no one attracted so much curiosity and attention
as this king without a kingdom, this Huguenot who had become Catholic. His
long and strongly marked features, his somewhat common _tournure_, his
familiarity with his inferiors--a familiarity which was to be attributed
to the habits of his youth, and which he carried almost too far for a
king--caused him to be at once recognised by the spectators, some of whom
called out to him--"To mass, Henriot, to mass!"

To which Henry replied.

"I was there yesterday, I have been there to-day, I shall go again
to-morrow. _Ventre-saint-gris!_ I think that is enough."

As for Margaret, she was on horseback--so beautiful, so fresh and elegant,
that there was a perfect chorus of admiration around her, some few notes
of which, however, were addressed to her companion and intimate friend,
the Duchess of Nevers, who had just joined her, and whose snow-white
steed, as if proud of its lovely burden, tossed its head, and neighed
exultingly.

"Well, duchess," said the Queen of Navarre, "have you anything new to tell
me?"

"Nothing, madam, I believe," replied Henriette. Then, in a lower tone, she
added--"And the Huguenot, what is become of him?"

"He is in safety," replied Margaret. "And your Piedmontese hero? Where is
he?"

"He insisted upon being one of the party, and is riding M. de Nevers'
charger, a horse as big as an elephant. He is a superb cavalier. I allowed
him to come, because I thought that your Huguenot protege would be still
confined to his room, and that consequently there could be no risk of
their meeting."

"_Ma foi!_" replied Margaret, smiling, "if he were here, I do not think
the