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Suddenly at the top of the stairs Henry perceived another figure, but this time it was that of a man.
"Hush!" said the man.
"Ah! is it you, Francois?"
"Do not call me by my name."
"What has happened?"
"Return to your rooms and you will see, then slip into the corridor, look carefully around to make sure that no one is spying on you, and come to my apartments. The door will be ajar."
He, too, disappeared down the stairs, like the phantoms in a theatre who glide through a trap door.
"_Ventre saint gris!_" murmured the Bearnais, "the puzzle continues; but since the answer is in my rooms, let us go thither and find it."
However, it was not without emotion that Henry went on his way. He had the sensitiveness and the superst.i.tion of youth. Everything was clearly reflected on his mind, the surface of which was as smooth as a mirror, and what he had just heard foretold trouble.
He reached the door of his rooms and listened. Not a sound. Besides, since Charlotte had said to return to his apartments, it was evident that there was nothing for him to fear by doing so. He glanced hurriedly around the first room--it was vacant. Nothing showed that anything had occurred.
"Orthon is not here," said he.
He pa.s.sed on to the next room. There everything was explained.
In spite of the water which had been thrown on in bucketsful, great red spots covered the floor. A piece of furniture was broken, the bed curtains had been slashed by the sword, a Venetian mirror had been shattered by a bullet; and a b.l.o.o.d.y hand which had left its terrible imprint on the wall showed that this silent chamber had been the scene of a frightful struggle. Henry embraced all these details at a glance, and pa.s.sing his hand across his forehead, now damp with perspiration, murmured:
"Ah, I know now the service the King has rendered me. They came here to a.s.sa.s.sinate me--and--ah! De Mouy! what have they done to De Mouy? The wretches! They may have killed him!"
And as anxious to learn the news as the Duc d'Alencon was to tell it, Henry threw a last mournful glance on the surrounding objects, hurried from the room, reached the corridor, made sure that it was vacant, and pushing open the half-closed door, which he carefully shut behind him, he hurried to the Duc d'Alencon's.
The duke was waiting for him in the first room. Laying his finger on his lips, he hastily took Henry's hand and drew him into a small round tower which was completely isolated, and which consequently was out of range of spies.
"Ah, brother," said he, "what a horrible night!"
"What happened?" asked Henry.
"They tried to arrest you."
"Me?"
"Yes, you."
"For what reason?"
"I do not know. Where were you?"
"The King took me into the city with him last night."
"Then he knew about it," said D'Alencon. "But since you were not in your rooms, who was?"
"Was some one there?" asked Henry as if he were ignorant of the fact.
"Yes, a man. When I had heard the noise, I ran to help you; but it was too late."
"Was the man arrested?" asked Henry, anxiously.
"No, he escaped, after he had wounded Maurevel dangerously and killed two guards."
"Ah! brave De Mouy!" cried Henry.
"It was De Mouy, then?" said D'Alencon, quickly.
Henry saw that he had made a mistake.
"I presume so," said he, "for I had an appointment with him to discuss your escape, and to tell him that I had yielded all my rights to the throne of Navarre to you."
"If that is known," said D'Alencon, growing pale, "we are lost."
"Yes, for Maurevel will speak."
"Maurevel received a sword-thrust in his throat, and I found out from the surgeon who dressed the wound that it would be a week before he would utter a single word."
"A week! That is more than enough for De Mouy to escape."
"For that matter," said D'Alencon, "it might have been some one besides Monsieur de Mouy."
"You think so?" said Henry.
"Yes, the man disappeared very quickly, and nothing but his red cloak was seen."
"And a red cloak," said Henry, "is more apt to be worn by a courtier than by a soldier. I should never suspect De Mouy in a red cloak."
"No, if any one were suspected," said D'Alencon, "it would be more apt to be"--
He stopped.
"It would be more likely to be Monsieur de la Mole," said Henry.
"Certainly, since I myself, who saw the man running away, thought so for an instant."
"You thought so? Why, it must have been Monsieur de la Mole, then."
"Does he know anything?" asked D'Alencon.
"Absolutely nothing; at least, nothing of importance."
"Brother," said the duke; "I really think now that it was he."
"The devil!" said Henry; "if it was, that will trouble the queen greatly, for she is interested in him."