CHAPTER II.

ANNA BELL.

Catherine De Medici and Cardinal Charles of Lorraine were in the midst of a conversation that started immediately after supper. The prelate, complaisant, sly and attentive to the slightest word of the Italian woman, showed himself alternately reserved and familiar, according to the turn that the conversation took. The Queen, on the other hand, intent, not so much upon what the retainer of the Guises said, as upon fathoming what he suppressed, at once hated and feared him, and sought to surprise upon his face the hidden secrets of his thoughts. Both the one and the other stood on their guard, the two accomplices in intrigue and crime vying with each other in dissimulation and perfidy, the Italian woman crafty, the prelate cautious.

"Monsignor Cardinal," remarked Catherine De Medici with a touch of irony in her tone, "you remind me at this moment--you must excuse the comparison, I am a huntress you know--"

"Your Majesty unites all the deities--Juno on her throne, Diana in the woods, Venus in her temple of Cytheria--"

"Mercy, Monsignor Cardinal, let us drop those mythological queens. They are old, they have lived their time--Diana, with the rest of them; they now inhabit the empyrean."

The pointed allusion to his amours with old Diana of Poitiers, Duchess of Valentinois, stung the haughty prelate to the quick. He meant to give tit for tat, and, in his turn hinting at his present amours with the Queen herself, he replied:

"I perceive, madam, that the death of the Duchess of Valentinois has not yet disarmed your jealousy. And yet, I feel hope re-rising in my heart--"

Catherine De Medici had yielded herself to the prelate out of political calculation, the same as he himself had laid siege to her out of political ambition. The Italian woman affected not to have understood the Cardinal's hint at their intimate relations, and darting upon him her viper's glance, proceeded:

"As I was saying, monsignor, when I begged you to excuse a comparison which I borrow from falconry, your oratorical circumlocutions remind me of a falcon's evolutions when he rises in the air to swoop down upon his prey. I have been searching through the mists of your discourse for the prey you are in pursuit of, and am unable to discover it. You induced me to join my son of Anjou in the army with the view of reviving the spirits of the Catholic chiefs. Meseems my faithful subjects should be sufficiently encouraged by the deaths of the Duke of Deux-Ponts, of Monsieur Conde, and of Dandelot, the brother of Coligny,--three of the most prominent chiefs of the Huguenot party, and all three carried off within a month. These are all fortunate events."[61]

"We see God's hand in that, madam," observed the Cardinal. "These three sudden deaths are providential. They are utterances from God."

"'Providential,' as you say Monsignor Cardinal," pursued the Queen. "Nevertheless, the Huguenots are pushing the campaign with great vigor, while the Catholic chiefs are flagging. You thought my presence at the camp of Roche-la-Belle would exert a favorable influence upon the fate of the campaign. Accordingly, I am on the way to join our army. Now, however, you indicate to me that this journey might lead to unexpected discoveries. You even dropped the word 'treason.' Once more I must say to you, Monsignor Cardinal, I see in all this the evolutions of the falcon, but not yet the prey that it threatens. In short, if there is treason, tell me where it lies. If there is a traitor, name him. Speak out plainly."

"Very well, madam. There is a plot concocted by Marshal Tavannes. The revelation seems to cause your Majesty to start. I beg your leave to go into the details of the affair. You will then be instructed upon its purpose."

"Monsignor Cardinal, no act of treason can surprise me. All I care to understand is the cause that brings the treason about. Please continue your revelations."

"I have it from good authority that Marshal Tavannes is negotiating with Monsieur Coligny. In present circumstances, negotiations smack of treason."

"And what do you presume, Monsignor Cardinal, is the purpose of the negotiations between Tavannes and Coligny?"

"To induce your Majesty's son, the Duke of Anjou, to embrace the Reformation and join the Huguenots."

"Is my son of Anjou supposed to be implicated in the plot? That, indeed, would mightily surprise me."

"Yes, madam. The Emperor of Germany and Monsieur Coligny have promised to the Duke of Anjou, in case he consents to go over to the reformers, the sovereignty of the Low Countries, of Saintonge and of Poitou. They hope to drive the young Prince into open revolt against his reigning brother, his Majesty Charles IX."

"Monsignor Cardinal, your insinuations, affecting as they do a son of the royal house of France, are of so grave a nature that I am bound to presume you have, ready at hand, the proofs of the plot which you are revealing to me. I demand that you produce the proofs instantly."

"I am at the orders of my Queen. I now hasten to spread before your Majesty's eyes the correspondence relating to the plot. Here is a letter from his Majesty Philip II of Spain, who was the first to get wind of the scheme, through one of his agents in the Low Countries. Furthermore, here are the written propositions from his Catholic Majesty and the Holy Father for common action with your Majesty against the Huguenot rebellion and heresy."

"What are the propositions of his Catholic Majesty and venerated Pontiff?"

"King Philip II and our Holy Father Pius V offer to your Majesty, besides the five thousand Walloon and Italian soldiers that now reinforce our army, a new corps of six thousand men--under the condition that your Majesty remove Marshal Tavannes and place the supreme command of the troops in the hands of the Duke of Alva."

"Accordingly," replied Catherine De Medici, fixing her eyes upon the Cardinal, "our two allies, His Holiness and King Philip II demand that the Duke of Alva, a Spanish general, be the commandant in chief of the French forces?"

"That is their condition, madam. But it is also agreed that the Duke of Alva is to exercise a nominal command only, and that the military operations shall be conducted by my brother of Aumale and my nephew Henry of Guise, who are to be his immediate subalterns."

Catherine De Medici remained impassive, betraying neither astonishment nor anger at the proposition to deliver the command of the French royal troops to the Duke of Alva, the pestiferous menial of Philip II, and to strengthen the Duke's hand with the support of the brother and the nephew of the prelate. The Queen seemed to reflect. After a short pause she said to the Cardinal:

"The proposition is not inacceptable. It may serve as the basis for some combination that we may offer later."

Despite his self-control, the Cardinal's face betrayed his secret joy. The Queen seemed not to notice it, and proceeded:

"The first thing to do would then be to withdraw my son of Anjou from the command of the army."

"The principal thing to do, madam, would be to remonstrate with the young Prince, and to separate him from his present evil advisers."

"That, indeed, would be the wisest course to pursue, if that plot exists, as I very much fear it can not be doubted in sight of the proofs you have presented to me. And yet, I must be frank to confess, I feel some repugnance against placing the Duke of Alva at the head of our army. I would be afraid, above all, of displeasing the other military chiefs and high dignitaries of our court. The measure will seem an outrage to them."

"I have the honor of reminding your Majesty that, in that case, my brother and my nephew will be joined to the Duke of Alva."

"You may feel certain, Monsignor Cardinal, that, without the express condition of Messieurs of Aumale and Guise being joined to the Spanish generalissimo, I would not for a moment have lent an ear to the scheme."

Thrown off the scent by the Queen, the prelate answered enthusiastically:

"Oh, madam, I swear to God the throne has not a more faithful supporter than the house of Guise."

"The fraud! The scamp!" said the Italian woman to herself. "I have probed his thoughts! I scent his treason! But I am compelled to conceal my feelings and to humor his family, however heartily I abhor it."

One of the Queen's pages, posted outside the door of the apartment and authorized at certain emergencies of the service to enter the Queen's cabinet without being called, parted the portieres, and bowing respectfully, said:

"Madam, the Count of La Riviere, captain of the guards of the Duke of Anjou, has just arrived from camp, and requests to be introduced to your Majesty immediately."

"Bring him in," answered Catherine De Medici. And as the page was about to withdraw, she added: "Should Monsieur Gondi arrive this evening, or even later in the night, let me be notified without delay."

The page bowed a second time, and withdrew. The Queen's last words seemed to cause the Cardinal some uneasiness. He asked with surprise:

"Does madam expect Monsieur Gondi?"

"Gondi must have received a letter from me at Poitiers, in which I ordered him to meet me at the camp of my son, instead of pursuing his route to Paris."

The Guisard had not quite recovered from his surprise when the Count of La Riviere, captain of the guards of the Duke of Anjou, was ushered in by the page. Catherine De Medici said to the prelate with a sweet smile:

"We shall see each other again to-night, Monsignor Cardinal. I shall need the advice of my friends in these sad complications. I shall want yours."

Charles of Lorraine understood that he was expected to withdraw; he bowed respectfully to the Queen and left the apartment, a prey to racking apprehensions.

The captain of the guards of the Duke of Anjou stepped forward, and presenting a letter to Catherine De Medici, said:

"Madam, my master ordered me to place this letter in your Majesty's own hands."

"Is my son's health good?" inquired the Queen, taking the missive. "What is the news in the army?"

"My master is in admirable health, madam. Yesterday there was a skirmish of vanguards between us and the Huguenots. The affair was of little importance--only a few men killed on either side."

Catherine broke the seal on the letter. As her eyes ran over its contents, her face, which at first was rigid with apprehension, gradually relaxed, and reflected gladness and profound satisfaction.

"The Guisard," she muttered to herself, "dared accuse my son of negotiating with Admiral Coligny. The infamous calumniator!" And turning to her son's ambassador: "My son informs me of your plan, monsieur. You wish to serve God, the King and France. Your arm and your heart are at our disposal?"

"Madam, I am anxious to emulate Monsieur Montesquiou--and to rid the King of one of his most dangerous enemies."

"You will surpass Monsieur Montesquiou if you succeed! One Coligny is worth ten Condes. But are you sure of the man whom my son mentions?"

"The man swore by his soul that he would not falter. He received six thousand livres on account of the fifty thousand promised to him. The rest is not to be paid until the thing is done. That is our guarantee."

"Provided he is not assailed with some silly qualms of conscience. But how did you become acquainted with the fellow?"

"Yesterday, as I just had the honor of advising your Majesty, there was a skirmish at our outposts. Admiral Coligny charged in person, and Dominic, that is the name of the man in question, led one of his master's relay horses by the reins--"

"He is, then, in the service of Monsieur Coligny?"

"Yes, madam; since infancy he has been attached to the Admiral's house. During the engagement he was separated from him. Two of our armed men were on the point of despatching Dominic, as we despatch all Huguenots, when, seeing me, he cried out 'Quarter!' 'Who are you?' I asked him. 'I am a servant of Monsieur the Admiral,' he answered. It suddenly flashed through my mind what profit we could draw from the man. Relying upon attaching him to me by the bonds of gratitude, I granted him his life. Later the proposition was made to him of causing the Admiral to drink a potion that we would furnish him with, and of a rich reward for himself."

"If your prisoner agreed readily to all," said the Queen, raising her head, "there is reason to suspect him."

"On the contrary, madam, he hesitated long. It was the magnitude of the promised sum that silenced his scruples. My master placed a certain powder in his hands and instucted him how to use it. The thing may be considered done."

"How is our man to explain his return to the heretic camp?"

"Very easily, madam. He will say that he was made a prisoner by us and escaped. The Admiral will not suspect a servant who was raised in his house."

"I hardly dare hope for success! In one month we have been rid of three enemies--the Duke of Deux-Ponts, Conde and Dandelot. Now it will be Coligny's turn! When is the man to leave our camp and rejoin the Huguenots?"

"This very night."

"Accordingly--to-morrow--"

"If it shall please God, madam, our holy Church and the kingdom will have triumphed over a redoubtable enemy."

"How I wish it were to-morrow!" exclaimed Catherine De Medici in a hollow voice, as the page, reappearing at the portiere, announced:

"Madam, Monsieur Gondi and another rider are alighting from their horses. Obedient to your Majesty's orders I have hastened to give you the news, and await your orders."

"Summon Gondi to me," said the Italian woman; and addressing the Count of La Riviere: "Go and take rest, monsieur; you may depart early in the morning; you shall have a letter from me for my son. Whether the scheme succeed or not, we shall reward your zeal for the triumph of the Catholic faith and the service of the King--two sacred interests."

"Will your Majesty allow me to remind her that Maurevert has just received the necklace of the Order of St. Michael for having put the Huguenot captain, Monsieur Mouy to death, after having penetrated into the camp of the reformers under the pretext that he renounced the Catholic faith and embraced the Reformation? I would wish to be the object of a like distinction."

"Monsieur La Riviere, you shall be as satisfied with us as we are with you. Assassination, committed in the service of the King, deserves to be rewarded. You shall be decorated Knight of the Order of St. Michael."

The captain of the guards of the Duke of Anjou saluted the Queen and withdrew as Monsieur Gondi entered in traveling costume. This Italian shared with his countryman Birago the confidence of Catherine De Medici. Delighted, the Queen took two steps towards Gondi, saying with impatient curiosity:

"What tidings from Bayonne?"

"Madam, I do not come alone. I bring with me the reverend Father Lefevre, one of the luminaries of the faith, a pupil and disciple of the celebrated Ignatius Loyola, the founder of the Order of Jesuits."

"But what is the result of your particular mission?"

"At the very first words with which I broached the matter to the Duke of Alva, he stopped me, saying: 'Monsieur Gondi, the reverend Father Lefevre is just about to proceed to the Queen for the purpose of considering with her the matter that brings you here. He has received the instructions of my master and of the Holy Father. He will disclose those instructions to the Queen.' It was impossible for me to draw anything further from the Duke of Alva. Accordingly, I had no choice but to return, madam, and to bring Father Lefevre to you."

"This is strange. What sort of a man is the Jesuit?"

"An impenetrable man. You can neither divine his thoughts, nor pick the lock of his secrets. You may judge for yourself when you shall have him before you. He requests an audience this very evening."

"And my daughter? What news from my poor Elizabeth?"

"The health of the Queen of Spain declines steadily, madam. She no longer leaves her bed."

"Alas, Gondi, we one of these days shall hear that Philip II has poisoned my daughter, as we learned last year that he caused his own son, Don Carlos, to be put to death. Oh, Philip! Thou crowned monk! Thou vampire that feedst on human blood!" And after a short pause: "Fetch me the Jesuit."

Gondi left and returned almost immediately, accompanied by the one-time friend of Christian the printer. The Queen made a sign to Gondi to be left alone with the Jesuit.

"You are Father Lefevre, and belong to the Society of Jesus? I understand that our Holy Father and the King of Spain have charged you with a mission to me. Speak, I am listening."

"Madam, the Holy Father and his Majesty Philip II are very much displeased--with you. Deign to acquaint yourself with this letter from his Holiness."

The Jesuit extracted from a silk wallet a schedule sealed with the pontifical seal, carried it respectfully to his lips, and handed it over to Catherine De Medici. The Queen broke the seal and read:

Madam and dearly beloved daughter:

In no way and for no reason whatever should you spare the enemies of God. I have issued orders to the commander of my troops, the Count of Santa Fiore, that _he cause all the Huguenots that may fall into the hands of his soldiers to be_ KILLED ON THE SPOT. Accordingly, no human considerations for persons or things should induce you to spare the enemies of God, they never having spared either God or yourself. Only through the complete extermination of the heretics will the King be able to restore his noble kingdom to the old religion. The felons must be put to just torture and death.

Receive, madam, our apostolic benediction.

PIUS.[62]

After reading the apostolic schedule, Catherine De Medici placed it upon a table and proceeded:

"I see, reverend Father, that both at Rome and Madrid I am charged with tolerance towards the Huguenots. I am blamed with prolonging the war. The two courts see in all this a political calculation on my part, whence it follows that if I continue to displease Rome and Madrid measures will be taken--"

"The Holy Father, the vicar of God on earth, has the power to release subjects from obedience to their sovereign, if he falls into heresy, deals with the same, or tolerates it."

"Proceed, reverend Father."

"The confirmatory bull of his Holiness Paul IV is formal--the Pope of Rome, by virtue of his divine right, is vested with power to excommunicate, suspend and depose all Kings guilty of divine _lese majeste_, or tolerant toward that irremissible crime. After which, the throne being declared vacant, it devolves upon the first good Catholic--who make take possession."

"That sounds like a threat, directed at my son Charles IX and at myself."

"It is a paternal warning, madam."

"In plain words, my son runs the risk of seeing himself deposed by the Pope."

"A disagreeable possibility, madam."

"Reverend Father, assuming the throne is declared vacant--by whom will our Holy Father have it filled? Surely not by a Bourbon, seeing the house of Bourbon is heretical. Consequently, the good Catholic Rome and Spain have in view probably is young Henry of Guise, the descendant of Charlemagne, according to the theory of the house of Lorraine."

"That is a temporal question which does not concern me, madam. It is, however, a notable fact that young Henry of Guise, son of the martyr of Orleans, carries a name that is dear to all Catholics."

"Accordingly, the purpose of your mission, reverend Father, is to convey a threat to me? But why blame me, a woman, with the slowness of the military operations against the Huguenots?"

"It is believed, madam, that you would look with too much disfavor upon a chief who would insure speedy triumph to the Catholic armies, and that you deliberately hamper the military operations by inciting rivalry among the several captains and setting them at odds. The strategic mistake of allowing the Duke of Deux-Ponts to penetrate into the very heart of France and carry a reinforcement of troops to the Huguenots is laid to your door. The junction of the two army corps is now an accomplished fact."

"The Duke of Deux-Ponts!" exclaimed Catherine De Medici with a sinister smile. "You do not seem to know what has befallen that heretic chief. But, before speaking of the miscreant, I wish to put you in condition to appreciate the facts concerning myself. I shall be frank--my interests command it."

"Madam, I am ready to hear."

"In order that you may have the key to my falsely interpreted conduct, I shall begin by making the following declaration to you--I have no religion! Does such an introduction, perchance, astonish or shock you?"

"By no means."

"Then, my reverend Father, we shall be able to understand each other. You justify--according to what is reported of your Order--tolerance for vice, provided appearances are saved. Now, then, I have no religion. It follows that I concern myself only with promoting my own ambition."

"Frankness can not be carried further."

"With the same outspokenness I shall add that I love power--to rule is life to me. I have been compared to Queen Brunhild. It is said I wink at precocious debauchery among my children with the view of unnerving and stupefying them. It is claimed I sow the seed of jealousy, intrigue and lechery among them."

"Those things are said--and many more, and more grave, madam."

"Some credence must be accorded to _hear say_, reverend Father. At least, in what concerns myself, people are rarely wide of the mark. But let me proceed. The religious wars have furnished me with the means of alternately cropping the crests, now with the aid of the ones, then with the aid of the others, of both the Catholic and the Protestant seigneurs, who, during my husband's reign, conceived the design of restoring their old feudal sovereignties. I still have the house of Guise to contend with, as Brunhild of old had the stewards of the palace on her hands. Thus I combated the Reformation, or gave comfort to the Huguenots against the Catholics, according as political exigencies dictated. At present I am well acquainted with the purposes of the Protestants, and I know how to conduct myself in order to annihilate them--when the moment shall have come to strike the decisive blow."

"You have unfolded to me your theories, madam, but you have recited not a single act in support of your predilection for our holy Church. We require proofs."

"Now let us pass to acts, reverend Father. A few minutes ago you mentioned the name of the Duke of Deux-Ponts, who hurried from Germany in aid of the Huguenots Conde, Coligny and his brother Dandelot."

"The hydra-heads of the heresy, madam."

"Well, reverend Father, already the hydra has three heads less. The Duke of Deux-Ponts is dead; Monsieur Dandelot is dead; the Prince of Conde is dead!"

The Jesuit, though stupefied, contemplated Catherine De Medici challengingly.

"Perhaps you would like to have some details concerning these great events," the imperturbable Queen pursued. "I shall satisfy your curiosity. The day following his junction with the Protestant army, the Duke of Deux-Ponts was poisoned. That is the word which is current. But you, reverend Father, and myself, look to facts, not words. The Duke of Deux-Ponts was poisoned with a cup of Spanish wine, that was poured out to him by a young beauty. Two days later, Dandelot, who suffered of a slow fever, was coaxed by another young beauty to swallow a pharmaceutical potion that quickly carried away both the disease and the patient. At the battle of Jarnac, the Prince of Conde, who had surrendered his sword to D'Argence under promise that his life would be safe, was shot down dead with a pistol by Montesquiou, a captain of my son of Anjou's guards. The occurrence came near turning my son crazy, such was his joy! When notified of what had happened, he hastened to the spot to see the corpse with his own eyes. He kicked it, and danced over and around it. It was a delirium! Finally, for fun, the thought struck him of placing the corpse across a she-ass, with the head dangling down on one side, the legs on the other. On that distinguished mount he returned the defunct general to the Protestant army, amid the hootings and cat-calls of our own soldiers.[63] That is the way my children treat their heretical relatives. Will his Holiness still insist that we deal with the Huguenots, or that we have any consideration for the enemies of the Church?"

"Oh, madam!" cried the Jesuit, almost choking with glee. "I lack words to express to you my admiration."

"And yet you claimed," proceeded Catherine De Medici with a hyena-like smirk, "that I favored the Huguenots! Would the Guisards, the Holy Father or Philip II do better than I? Hardly has the campaign opened when Conde, the soul of the French Protestant party, has ceased to breathe; the Duke of Deux-Ponts, the soul of the German party, has ceased to live; and Dandelot, one of the ablest Protestant generals, is also dead. Nor is that all!" added the Italian woman, taking from the table the letter of the Duke of Anjou, freshly brought to her by the captain of her son's guards, and passing it over to Lefevre, "Read this!"

The Jesuit took the letter, and, after informing himself of its contents, cried, contemplating the Queen with ecstasy:

"So that we may expect, to-morrow, to see Coligny effect a junction with his brother Dandelot!"

"Well, now, do you not think I have done a good deal of work?"

"Oh, you have accomplished and even exceeded all that the Holy Father and the King of Spain could have asked!"

"And yet, I still have information for you." Saying this, the Queen rang twice the bell near her. A page appeared. "Bring me," ordered Catherine, "the ebony casket that you will find in my chamber, on the table near my bed."

The page went out and Catherine turned again to the Jesuit:

"You surely know Prince Franz of Gerolstein by name and reputation?"

"I know, madam, that the principality of that heretical family is a hot-bed of pestilence. We keep our eyes open upon that nest of miscreants."

"The Duke of Deux-Ponts appointed as commander of his troops the aged general Wolfgang of Mansfeld, but did so with the recommendation that the active direction of operations be entrusted to the Prince of Gerolstein, a young, but one of the ablest German generals. This very night one of my maids of honor is to depart--"

The re-entrance of the page broke off the Queen's sentence. He deposited the casket beside Catherine and withdrew.

"You were saying, madam," observed Father Lefevre, "that one of your maids of honor was to depart this very night--"

"You seem to relish deeply my communications, reverend Father, and yet it was only a few minutes ago that you almost treated me like a Huguenot woman."

"Mercy, madam, a truce of raillery. The unexpected and happy tidings you have imparted to me were not known by the Holy Father and the King of Spain when I left them. I declare to you, madam, that these events modify profoundly my mission to your court."

"Well, reverend Father, I am constantly saying to the Spanish ambassador and the papal legate in France: 'Wait--let me do--have patience.' But all to no avail. The Holy Father yields to the inspirations of the agents of the Cardinal of Lorraine, while Philip II dreams of the dismemberment of France and desires to place Henry of Guise on the throne. In that Philip II plays a risky game, reverend Father! To overthrow the reigning dynasty of France would be to set a bad example to the people, and to deal a mortal blow to monarchy itself. We are living in frightful times. Everything conspires against royalty. The Huguenots, at least some of them who style themselves the most advanced in politics, proclaim the people's right to federate in a republic after the fashion of the Swiss cantons. And even you, my reverend Fathers, you also attack royal authority by preaching the doctrine of regicide."

"That is true, madam; we maintain that the Kings who do not labor for the greater glory of the Church must be smitten from the throne."

"Neither my sons nor I refuse to labor for the greater glory of the Church. It must be a matter of indifference to the Holy Father whether the Huguenots are exterminated by us or by the Guises, or by Spain. What advantage could the court of Rome derive from suppressing the dynasty of Valois?"

"His Holiness sees clearly through the game of the King of Spain. He will never favor Philip's ambitious designs to the injury of your dynasty--unless obliged thereto by your resistance to the court of Rome. We aim at the extirpation of heresy by the extermination of the Huguenots; and I have been commissioned, madam, to urge you to prosecute the war with vigor--"

"The war!" broke in the Queen impatiently, and with marked contempt and irony. "How come you, a Jesuit, a man of keenness and science, to make yourself the echo of the Pope and of Philip II, two nearsighted intellects? Let us reason together, my reverend Father. Would you, if you want to kill your enemy, choose the time when he is on his guard and armed? Would you not wait for when he sheathed his sword and was peacefully asleep in his house? And in order to lead him to that state of apparent security, would you not approach him with a smile on your lips, your hand outstretched, and with the words: 'Let us forget our enmity'?"

"But for the success of such tactics our enemy must have confidence in us."

"Protestations of friendship are supported by oaths."

"Oh! Oh! Vain hope! Your Majesty errs if you believe you can lull the suspicions of the Huguenots with oaths."

"I am of the school of Machiavelli, reverend Father; as such I have faith in the efficacy of oaths. Listen to this passage from the volume entitled _The Prince_. I learned it by heart; it deals upon this very subject: 'The animals whose appearance a Prince must know how to assume are the _fox_ and the _lion_. The former defends himself but poorly against the wolf, while the latter readily falls into the snares laid for him. From the fox a Prince will learn how to be adroit, from the lion how to be strong. Whoever disdains the method of the fox knows nothing of governing men. In other words, a Prince neither can nor should keep his word, except when he can do so without injury to himself. The thing is to play his part well, and to know when to feign and dissimulate. To cite but one instance: Pope Alexander VI made deception his life-work. This notwithstanding, despite his well known faithlessness, he succeeded in all his artifices, protestations and oaths.' Did you hear, reverend Father," added the Italian woman interrupting her recitation and laying stress upon the word _oaths_, and she proceeded: "'Never before did any Prince break his word more frequently, or respect his pledges less, because he was master of the art of governing.'[64] Alexander VI was an incestuous Pope; he committed murder and sacrilege, yet there were those who believed they could rely upon his oath. I am said to be an incestuous mother; I am said to have caused blood to flow in streams; I am said to have caused my enemies to be poisoned; all these and many more misdeeds are imputed to me. Very well! Now, all this notwithstanding, they will place faith in my oaths. Judge the future by the past. Remember that after the revocation of the Edict of Amboise, the Huguenot party allowed itself to be trepanned by the Edict of Longjumeau, confirmed by our royal word. But let us now pass to another line of argument, my reverend Father. Please hand me yonder casket--not the one the page just brought in, the other."

The Jesuit placed on the table before the Queen the casket that she pointed out. She opened it with a little key suspended from her waist, and took out of it a scroll of paper which she handed to Father Lefevre.

"Inform yourself on this document, reverend Father," she said.

Father Lefevre read as follows:

"Summary of the matters primarily agreed upon between the Duke of Montmorency, Constable; the Duke of Guise, Grand Master and Peer of France; and Marshal St. Andre, for the conspiracy of the triumvirate, and subsequently discussed at the entrance of the sacred and holy Council of Trent, and agreed upon by the parties herein concerned at their private council held against the heretics and the King of Navarre, because of his maladministration of the affairs of Charles IX, minor King of France, the which King of Navarre is a partisan of the new sect which now infests France."

The Jesuit looked surprised. Deeply interested, he asked: "How is your Majesty in possession of this secret pact?"

"It matters not how."

The Jesuit proceeded to read:

"In order that the affair be conducted under the highest authority, it is agreed to vest the superintendence of the whole plan in the Very Catholic King of all the Spains, Philip II, who shall conduct the enterprise. He is to remonstrate with the King of Navarre on the score of the support that he affords to the new religion; and if the said Navarrais proves intractable, the said King Philip II is to endeavor to draw him over to him with the promise of the restitution of Navarre, or some other gift of great profit or emolument. By these means the said King Philip II is to soften him, to the end of inducing him to conspire against the heretical sect. If he still resists, King Philip II shall raise the necessary forces in Spain, and fall unexpectedly upon the territory of Navarre, which he will be easily able to be overrun, while the Duke of Guise, declaring himself at the same time _chief of the Catholic confession_, shall from his side gather armed men, and, thus pressed from two sides, the territory of Navarre can be easily seized."

"So you see, reverend Father, the pact dates back to 1651--eight years ago--and already then did Francis of Guise declare himself _chief of the Catholic confession_, under the protection of the King of Spain. Neither myself, the Regent, nor my son, the King of France, although then a minor, is at all taken into consideration."

The Jesuit proceeded to read aloud:

"The Emperor of Germany and other Princes who have remained Catholic shall block the passages to France during the war in that country, in order to prevent the Protestant Princes from coming to the aid of the Navarrais, and they will also see to it that the Swiss cantons remain quiet. To that end it will be necessary that the Catholic cantons declare war upon the Protestant ones, and that the Pope give all the assistance in his power to the said Catholic cantons, and that he subsidize them with money and other necessaries for the war.

"While war is thus keeping France and Switzerland busy, the Duke of Savoy shall fall unexpectedly upon Geneva and Lausanne, shall seize the two cities, _and shall put all the inhabitants who resist to the sword, and all the others shall be thrown into the lake_, WITHOUT DISTINCTION OF AGE OR SEX, to the end that all may be made to feel that divine Providence has compensated for the postponement of punishment with its grandeur, and wills that the children suffer for the heresy of their parents, obedient to the Biblical text."

"Oh, we must all admit, madam," exclaimed the Jesuit, interrupting his reading, "Duke Francis of Guise is nourished with the marrow of Catholicism--"

"We of the house of Valois will suck the identical bone, and we will verify the dream of the Guisard, who was assassinated the very day after he signed this pact--"

Again the Jesuit proceeded to read:

"The same in France. For good and just reasons _all the heretics, without distinction, must be massacred at one blow_. THE PEACE SHALL BE PUT TO THAT USE. And this mission of exterminating all the members of the new religion shall be entrusted to the Duke of Guise, who shall, moreover, be charged with entirely effacing the name and stock of the lineage of the Navarrian Bourbons, lest from them there may arise some one to undertake the revenge of these acts, or the restoration of the new religion. All these matters are to be kept in mind.

"Matters being thus disposed of in France, it will be well to invade Protestant Germany with the aid of the Emperor and the bishops, and to restore that country to the holy apostolic See. To this end, the Duke of Guise _shall lend the Emperor and other Catholic Princes all the moneys proceeding from the confiscations and spoils of so many nobles and rich bourgeois_, KILLED _in France_ as HERETICS. The Duke of Guise shall be later reimbursed from the _spoils of the Lutherans, who, by reason of the same taint of heresy shall have been killed in Germany_.

"The Cardinals of the Sacred College have no doubt that, in the same manner, all the other kingdoms can be turned into the flocks of the apostolic shepherd. But, first of all, may it please God to help and favor these purposes, they being HOLY AND FULL OF PIETY."[65]

"Holy and full of piety were these Catholic purposes!" exclaimed the reverend Father Lefevre laying the pact of the triumvirate upon the table. "Alas, death palsied the hand of the Duke of Guise at the very beginning of his great work!"

"The Lord evidently wished, my reverend Father, to reserve for us, the Valois, the execution of the project that the Guisard organized with a motive of purely personal ambition. I shall hatch the bloody egg that the Lorrainian laid. But the chick can not break the egg except during peace. Then the Huguenots will have ceased to be on their guard; then they will be dozing in false security. The work of extermination will be accomplished with the help of a peace that we shall have brought about. All will be killed--men and women, children and the aged. Not one heretic will escape the avenging sword. Let Rome and Madrid give me time to move! Let Pius V and Philip II give over harassing me continually with their threats on the ground that the war is dragging along! Are hostilities to be suddenly stopped? No, indeed! I must profit, as I have already profited, by all opportunities to destroy as many Huguenots as possible, especially their leaders. The Duke of Alva is right: 'One salmon is worth more than a thousand minnows.' At the first favorable juncture I shall negotiate peace with the Protestants, and grant them all they may demand. The more favorable the treaty shall be to the Huguenots, all the smoother will the rope run that is to strangle them. When the edict is promulgated it shall be scrupulously carried out, in order to induce our adversaries to disarm. At the right moment we shall organize the general massacre, for one day, all over France."

"The Holy Father and the King of Spain shall be posted on your Majesty's project. They will be notified that it is thanks to you, the Duke of Deux-Ponts, Dandelot and the Prince of Conde _have been dismissed to appear before their natural Judge_."

"People of your cloth, my reverend Father," replied the Queen, "know how to impart an ingenious and peculiar turn to the description of events."

"Madam, seeing we are considering those people in whose behalf we simply advance the hour of final judgment, I wish above all to recommend to the attention of your Majesty that most dangerous German Prince--Franz of Gerolstein."

"The young Prince came last year to my court shortly before the reformers took up arms. He is brilliant, daring and gifted with great military talent. It was due to his influence that the Duke of Deux-Ponts decided to bring to the Protestant army the reinforcement it received of German troops. To-day Franz of Gerolstein is the real head of the forces over which Wolfgang of Mansfeld exercises but titular authority."

"Do you expect to deliver the Church of that pestilential Gerolstein?"

"One of my maids of honor is to take charge of that delicate mission, my reverend Father--" and stopping suddenly short and listening in the direction of a little door that communicated with the apartment, Catherine De Medici asked: "Did you not hear a sound, something like a suppressed cry outside there?"

"No, madam."

"It seems to me I heard a voice behind that door. Throw it open," whispered Catherine to Father Lefevre; "see, I beg you, if there is someone listening!"

The Jesuit rose, pushed open the door, looked out, and returned: "Madam, I can see nobody; the corridor is dark."

"I must have deceived myself. It must have been the moaning of the wind that I heard."

"Madam," said Father Lefevre as he resumed his seat, "once we are considering dangerous persons, I request you to mention to your generals two heretics in particular--Odelin Lebrenn and his son, armorers by trade, who serve in the Admiral's army as volunteers. I would urge you to recommend to your generals that they spare the lives of both heretics if they are ever taken prisoners."

"Did I understand you correctly, my reverend Father? The lives of the two miscreants are to be spared?"

"The grace extended to them will be but a short respite, which we would put to profit by wresting from them certain valuable secrets with the aid of the rack--before dismissing them to their supreme Judge."

"Those are details, my reverend Father, with which I can not burden myself. Upon such matters you must treat with Count Neroweg of Plouernel, the chief of my escort."

At the name of Neroweg of Plouernel the Jesuit gave a slight start. With a face expressive of gratification he remarked: "Madam, Providence seconds my wishes. There is none fitter than the Count of Plouernel for me to address myself to in this affair."

"Let us return to more weighty questions, my reverend Father. I have still two words to say to you concerning the Cardinal of Lorraine. This evening the Guisard strove to make me believe that Marshal Tavannes, the commandant of the army of my son of Anjou, was treating secretly with Coligny. According to the Cardinal, the plot is to offer my son the sovereignty of the Low Countries, besides Guyenne and other provinces, upon condition that he embrace the Reformed religion. Have you received any inkling of these projects through your spies? Unless your own interests render it necessary for you to deceive me on this head, answer me truthfully. I know how to hear and bear the full truth on all matters."

The Jesuit reflected for a moment; he then made answer: "Yes, madam; we are informed on those negotiations--indeed, it is due to that very information that it was decided to send me upon the present mission to your Majesty."

"And, with the view of thwarting the plot, did the Cardinal of Lorraine induce Philip II to propose the Duke of Alva to me for general-in-chief of the Catholic army, with young Henry of Guise, the Cardinal's nephew, and his brother, the Duke of Aumale, as Alva's lieutenants?"

"The proposition was made to the King of Spain. It is true."

"Who, no doubt, received it favorably?"

"Yes, madam. But his Catholic Majesty was not then aware of the latest happenings which you communicated to me, the same as he is still ignorant of your resolution to put an end to the heresy when the moment shall have come to strike the decisive blow, as you explained it."

"You are now informed on the contents of the letter which I showed you from my son of Anjou, regarding the project against Coligny. The Cardinal lied knowingly when he accused my son of dealing with the Admiral. Of course he knows the Marshal and my son will stoutly deny the charge. He merely seeks to arouse doubts and suspicions in my mind, hoping I may be frightened into transferring the command of the French army into the hands of the Duke of Alva and his nephew."

"The Cardinal's falsehood, madam, did not lack skill. It was an adroit diplomatic move."

"Now, my reverend Father, let me sum up our interview--war upon the Huguenots, merciless war, while it lasts; thereupon the offer or acceptance of a peace, which is to be utilized by us in preparing their extermination. That is my line of conduct."

"My mission to you is ended, madam. To-morrow I shall take my departure and return to inform the King of Spain and the Holy Father of the happy deeds done, and those in contemplation, all of which guarantee the execution of your promises for the future."

"My reverend Father, is it in my power to bestow any favor upon you, to grant you a present? It is a right enjoyed by all negotiators."

"Madam, we care but little for the goods and honors of this world. All I shall ask of you is to cause your son, King Charles IX, to change his confessor, and take one from our Society, the reverend Father Auger. He is an able and accommodating man, skilful in understanding everything, permitting everything--and advising everything."

"I promise you I shall induce my son Charles to take Father Auger for his confessor. Good night, my reverend Father, go and rest. I shall see you to-morrow before your departure and deliver to you a letter for the Holy Father."

The Queen rang twice the little bell that lay at her elbow. A page entered: "Conduct the reverend Father to Count Neroweg of Plouernel."

She then rang again, not twice, but three times. After bowing to Catherine De Medici the Jesuit withdrew upon the steps of the page. Almost immediately Anna Bell stepped into the apartment through the door that opened upon the corridor.

Catherine De Medici was struck by the pallor and the troubled, almost frightened, looks of her maid of honor as she presented herself upon the summons of the bell. Fastening a penetrating look upon Anna Bell, the Queen said:

"You look very pale, dearest; your hands tremble; you seem unable to repress some violent emotion."

"May your Majesty deign to excuse me--"

"What is the cause of your great agitation?"

"Fear, madam. I was hurrying to answer your summons, and--as I crossed the dark corridor--whether it was an illusion or reality, I know not, madam, I thought I saw a white figure float before me--"

"It must be the ghost of some deceased belle, who, expecting still to find here the sturdy abbot of the monastery, came to pay him a nocturnal visit. But let us leave the dead to themselves, and turn our thoughts to the living. I love you, my pet, above all your companions."

"Your Majesty has taken pity upon a poor girl."

"Yes; it is now about eight or nine years ago, that, as Paula, one of my women, was crossing the Chatelet Square, she saw an old Bohemian wench holding a little girl by the hand. Struck by the beauty and comeliness of the little one, Paula offered to buy her. The gypsy quickly closed the bargain. Paula told me the story. I desired to see her protege. It turned out to be yourself. The Bohemian woman must have kidnapped you from some Huguenot family, I fear, judging from a little lead medal that hung from your neck and bore the legend--_A Pastor calling the sheep of the Church out of the desert_--a common expression in the cabalistic cant of those depraved people."

"Alas! madam, I preserve no other memento of my family--you will pardon me for having kept the medal."

"Well, from the instant that Paula brought you before me I was charmed with your childish gracefulness. I had you carefully trained in the art of pleasing, and placed you among my maids of honor."

"Your Majesty enjoys my unbounded gratitude. Whenever you commanded I obeyed, even when you exacted a sacrifice--whatever it may have cost me--"

"You are alluding, my pet, to the conversion of the Marquis of Solange! I said to you: 'Solange is a Huguenot; he is influential in his province; should war break out again, he may become a dangerous enemy to me; he contemplates leaving the court;--make him love you, and be not cruel to him; a handsome lass like you is well worth a mass.' The bargain was struck. We now have one Catholic more, and one virgin less."

Anna Bell hid her face, purple with shame.

Without seeming to notice the young girl's confusion, Catherine De Medici proceeded: "By the virtue of your beautiful eyes Solange has become a fervent Catholic and one of my most faithful servitors. You gave me in that instance proof of your complete devotion. For the rest, it was a sweet sacrifice on your part, my pet; Solange is an accomplished nobleman, young, handsome, brave and witty. It is not now about that lover that we have business on hand. I have other plans for you. I am thinking of marrying you. I wish to make a Princess of you, and verify the most cherished of your secret wishes--which I have guessed. Anna Bell, you do not love Solange; you never loved him; and you nourish in the recesses of your heart a desperate passion for the young Prince Franz of Gerolstein."

"Good God! Madam. Have pity upon me! Mercy!"

"There is nothing pitiful in the matter. The Prince is made to be loved. His reputation for bravery, magnificence and gallantry ran ahead of him to my court, where you saw him last year. He often conversed with you tete-a-tete. When other women sought to provoke him with their allurements your face grew somber. Oh, nothing escapes me! Affairs of state do not absorb me to the point that I can not follow, with the corner of my eye, the cooings of my maids of honor. It is my mental relaxation. I love to see beauty in its youth devote itself to the cult of Venus, and put in practice the saying of Rabelais' Thalamite--'_Do what you please!_' How often did I not seat myself among you, my dear girls, to chat about your gallants, your appointments, your infidelities! What delightful tales did we not tell! How you all led the poor youngsters by the nose! Truth to say, they returned you tit for tat, and with usury, to the greater glory of the goddess Aphrodite! And yet, my pet, although I had trained you a true professional of the Abbey of Thalamia, with Cupid for your god and Voluptuousness for your patron saint, you ever remained out of your element among your companions. Serious and melancholy, you are a sort of nun among my other maids. What you need is devoted and faithful love; a husband whom you can adore without remorse; a brood of children to love. That is the reason, my pet, why I wish to marry you to Franz of Gerolstein."

"It pleases your Majesty to mock me--take pity upon poor Anna."

"No joke! You admit you love the young and handsome German Prince. I can read in your soul better than you could yourself. I shall tell you what your thoughts are at this moment: 'Yes, I love Franz of Gerolstein! But a deep abyss separates us two, and will always separate me from him. He is in the camp opposed to that of the Queen, my benefactress; he is the head of a sovereign house; he is ignorant of my passion, and if he did know, he never could think of wedding me! What am I? A poor girl picked up from the street. I already have had one gallant. Besides, Catherine De Medici's maids of honor enjoy a bad, a deservedly bad, reputation. The satires and the pasquils designate us with the appellation of the Queen's Flying Squadron. I should be crazy to think of marriage with Franz of Gerolstein--'"

"Madam, take pity upon me!" broke in Anna Bell, no longer able to restrain her tears. "Even if what you say is true, even if you read to the very core of my thoughts--please do not sport with my secret sorrows."

"My pet, hand me the little casket of sandal wood, ribbed in gold, that lies upon yonder table. It contains wonderful things."

Anna Bell obeyed. The Queen selected one of the little keys attached to her girdle and opened the casket. Nothing could be more fascinating to the eyes than the contents of the chest--embroidered and perfumed gloves, smelling apples, dainty-looking vermillion confectionery boxes, filled with sugar plums of all colors, and several vials of gold and crystal. Catherine De Medici picked out one of these, reclosed the casket carefully and returned it to Anna Bell. The maid of honor replaced it upon the table and returned to the Queen. Smiling benignly and holding up the golden, glistening vial before her victim, the Queen said: "Do you see this, my pet? This little vial encloses the love of Franz of Gerolstein."

"What a suspicion!" was the thought that flashed through Anna Bell's mind and froze her to the floor. But the terror-stricken girl quickly regained her self-control at that critical moment. "I must not," was the second thought that flashed through her mind close upon the first, "I must not allow the Queen to notice that I know her purpose."

"Do you believe, my pet, in the potency of love-philters?"

"This evening," answered the young girl with an effort to control her emotions, "this very evening Clorinde of Vaucernay was telling us, madam, that a lady of the court succeeded by means of one of those enchanted potions in captivating a man who, before then, had a strong dislike for her."

"You, then, believe in the potency of philters?"

"Certainly, madam," answered Anna Bell anxious not to awaken the Queen's suspicions; "I must have full confidence in their efficacy, seeing it is proved by such incontestable facts."

"The merest doubt on the subject is unallowable, my pet; to doubt would be to shut one's eyes and deny the light of day. Now, my little beauty, the philter contained in this vial, is put together by Ruggieri, my alchemist, under the conjunction of marvelously favorable planets. It is of such virtue that only a few drops, if poured out by a woman who wishes to be loved by a man, would suffice to turn him permanently amorous of her. Take this philter, my pet--go and find your Prince Charming. Let him drink the contents of this vial--and grant him the gift of an amorous mercy."

Anna Bell no longer suspected, she comprehended the Queen's intentions. For a moment she was seized with terror and remained silent, mechanically holding the vial in her hand. The Queen, on her part, attributing the stupor and silence of Anna Bell to an excess of joy, or, perhaps, to the apprehension caused her by the thought of the many and great dangers to overcome in order to approach her Prince, proceeded to allay her fears:

"Poor dear girl, you are as speechless as if, awakened with a start from a dream, you find it a reality. You are surely asking yourself what to do in order to reach Franz? Nothing easier--provided your courage is abreast of your love."

Controlling her troubled mind, Anna Bell answered with composure: "I hope, madam, I do not lack courage."

"Listen to me carefully. We are only a few leagues from the enemy's army. I shall issue orders to Count Neroweg of Plouernel to furnish you with a safe conduct up to the Huguenot outposts. You shall be carried in one of my own litters, drawn by two mules. By dawn to-morrow morning you can not fail to run against some scout or other making the rounds of the Protestant camp--"

"Great God! madam. I tremble at the bare thought of falling into the hands of the Huguenots!"

"If your courage fail you, all will run to water. But you may be quite certain that you run no risk whatever. The Huguenots do not kill women--especially not such handsome ones as yourself. You will be merely the prisoner of the miscreants."

"And what am I to do then, madam?"

"You will say to those who will arrest you: 'Messieurs, I am one of the Queen's maids of honor; I was on my way to join her Majesty; the leader of my litter struck a wrong road; please take me to Prince Franz of Gerolstein.' The rest will go of itself. The Huguenots will take you to the Prince. Like the nobleman that he is, my little beauty, he will keep you at his lodgings or in his tent, he will yield you the place of honor at his table--and--in his bed. You will have more than one opportunity to improve Franz's wine with a few drops of the philter."

The Queen's instructions were interrupted at this point by the entrance of a page who came to announce that Count Neroweg of Plouernel prayed for admission to the Queen's presence upon pressing and important matters. Catherine ordered the page to introduce the Count, and she bade Anna Bell godspeed, kissing her on the forehead and adding these last instructions:

"Prepare immediately for your journey, my pet. The Count of Plouernel will appoint the guide who is to accompany you. One of my equerries will get a litter ready. I expect to see you again before your departure."

The maid of honor followed the Queen's instructions. Seeing that the interview with the Count of Plouernel lasted longer than she had anticipated, Catherine De Medici was prevented from seeing Anna Bell again, and sent her a note to depart without delay.

Towards one o'clock in the morning the maid of honor mounted in one of the Queen's litters, left the Abbey of St. Severin.