‘Madame,’ said the King, in an unusually calm voice, ‘my mind is made up.’

She smiled serenely, but she was far from serene.

She left the King and, dressing herself in the clothes of a market woman, she slipped into a little-known passage which led out of the Louvre, and made her way through the crowded streets to the Rue St Antoine. The atmosphere in the streets was unhealthy. Everywhere, it seemed, people were discussing the attempt on the Admiral’s life—the Catholics with gratification, the Huguenots with horror. She slipped into a back entrance of the Hôtel de Guise and told one of the lower servants that she had a message for the Duke; she was amused to see that she was unrecognized.

‘It is imperative that I see the. Duke,’ she said. ‘I come from the Queen Mother.’

She was at length taken to the Duke, who was with his brother Mayenne; and when Henry of Guise saw who his visitor was he immediately dismissed all attendants.

As soon as the doors were shut, Catherine said: ‘Are you sure that we cannot be overheard?’

‘It is quite safe to speak, Madame,’ said Guise.

She turned on him angrily. ‘Here is a pretty state of affairs. It seems it would have been better to have employed the Duchess after all. That bungling fool should have his hands chopped off for this.’

‘Your Majesty must realize,’ said Mayenne, ‘that it was no fault of the man’s. A better shot does not exist in France.’

‘Madame,’ put in Guise, ‘it was not his fault the Admiral stooped when he did. It was Fate.’

‘Ah!’ said Catherine, and her fingers closed over her bracelet. ‘I have always feared that some great magic protects him. Why . . . why should he have stooped at that moment?’

‘And merely to pick up a paper which had fluttered to the ground,’ said Guise gloomily. ‘But for that, he should no longer be troubled with him.’

‘Listen,’ said Catherine. ‘The King has arrested some of your servants, as you no doubt have heard. That fool left his gun behind him. It is known that he escaped on a horse from one of your friends’ stables. The King swears vengeance on you. You must leave Paris at once.’

Guise smiled. ‘But, Madame, that would indeed be folly. Leave Paris now? That would be to admit our guilt.’

‘I think,’ said Mayenne, ‘that Her Majesty has some plan to lay before us.’

‘You are right. Matters cannot rest as they are. Those Huguenots stand about the streets muttering threats. They dared insult me when I was on my way to the Admiral’s house. They simmer, Messieurs, and they are ready to boil over.’

‘Let them,’ said Guise, putting his hand on his sword. let them boil all over Paris, and they will see what Paris thinks of them.’

‘We cannot have civil war in Paris, Monsieur. I would wish this trouble to be put right before it grows beyond our control.’

Catherine’s eyes were gleaming and there was the faintest colour under her skin. She saw now that the time had come, the moment for which she had said she would wait, when she had paced the gallery of the palace of Bayonne with Alva.

Here was the moment. It was inescapable. There must be no fighting between the Catholics and Huguenots in Paris. If there was, Guise would assume the role of King, and who knew what outcome that would have? Ironical it would be if the Catholics won and decided they would put their hero on the throne! He was a Prince; he had a slight claim. It might be that, in spite of the stoppage of the mail, the news of the Catholic-Huguenot wedding was already carried over the border and into Spain . into Rome. If what she planned could be brought to pass, she would have more heads than that of Coligny to send to Rome. And the news she would send would make both Philip and Gregory forget all about a mere marriage.

‘I do not mean that you should leave Paris in fact, Messieurs. No. Pretend to leave Paris with the members of your family who are here with you. Ride out by the Porte St Antoine . . . ride a little way out . . . then assume a disguise and, at dusk, come riding back. Keep yourselves hidden for a little while . . . here in this house, so that none but your trusted followers know that you are here. I could not have you leave Paris, my friends, for you will be needed for the task which lies ahead of us.

‘And the task, Madame?’ asked Guise.

‘To rid France of these pestilential Huguenots for ever . . . and at one sweep.’


* * *

Later that day the city was seething with excitement. The Guises had left Paris! They had, it appeared, almost slunk out without ceremony and without followers, as though they were eager to escape from the city at the greatest possible speed. The Catholics were aghast; the Huguenots were jubilant. What could this mean, they asked each other, but that the Guises were in disgrace? The King then was siding with the Huguenots. If this were so, said the Huguenots, all that the Admiral had suffered was not in vain.

There was an incident in the Tuileries gardens; a Huguenot started trouble with a member of the King’s Guard who had refused him entry, whereupon Huguenots rushed into the gardens and demanded justice. Téligny, with great wisdom, managed to avert disaster, but the tension had increased.

Catherine had now determined to act quickly. She called a meeting, but it was a secret gathering, and it took place in the shady alleys of the Tuileries gardens, whither her fellow conspirators came to join her and Anjou, who had her confidence in this matter. All these conspirators were Italian, and she had selected them because she believed that her fellow countrymen were more skilled in the art of murder than the French. There were Retz and Birago, those two whom she had set to tutor the King; Louis of Gonzaga, the Duke of Nevers; and the two Florentines, Caviaga and Petrucci.

‘My friends,’ whispered Catherine when they were all assembled, ‘the Admiral must die and die speedily. You can see there will be no peace in this land until he is dead.’

It was agreed that what she said was true.

‘And now,’ she said, ‘we must decide which are the best means to employ.’

And while she talked she was alert for the arrival of a man whom she had employed more than once in delicate matters, and who, she had arranged, should on this occasion burst in on them with news of a plot which he had just discovered; for she had decided that she would need great justification for what she was about to propose, and the alleged discovery by this man would provide that justification.

His entrance was perfectly timed.

He had the alert eyes of the spy, this Bouchavannes. Installed in the house in the Rue Béthisy ever since the Admiral had been in Paris, it had been his duty to repeat to the Queen Mother all that he had heard and seen during his sojourn there. Now he had a startling story to tell. The Huguenots, he declared, planned revolt. They were going to rise and take possession of the Louvre, kill every member of the royal family, set Henry of Navarre on the throne of France and subdue the Catholics for ever.

‘Messieurs,’ said Catherine, ‘now we know what we must do. There is only one path open to us.’

‘What are Your Majesty’s plans?’ asked Retz.

Catherine replied calmly: ‘To destroy, monsieur, not only the Admiral, but every Huguenot in Paris . . . before they destroy us. We must preserve absolute secrecy. Only those who are with us and whom we can trust must know our plans. And, Messieurs, we must get to work at once, for there is little time to be lost if we would strike at them before they strike at us.’

‘Madame,’ Nevers reminded her, ‘it would be necessary to obtain the consent of the King before such a matter could be undertaken. It must have a seal of authority. If Guise were in Paris we could rely on him to rally every Catholic in Paris to the cause.’

Catherine permitted herself a smile. ‘Have no fear. Monsieur de Guise will be here at the right moment. As for the King, leave him to me. Monsieur de Retz, you were his tutor and you know him well. I may need your help in persuading him.’

‘Madame,’ said Retz, ‘the King has changed. He is not the pliable boy we once knew. He is now obsessed by the idea of avenging the Admiral.’

‘Then we must jerk him out of his obsession.’ She turned her cold stare on Retz, and looked from him to the others. ‘We must meet again. We must call together all those whom we can trust. I will see that Monsieur de Guise and his family are with us. As for the King we must get to work on him at once.’


* * *

Together, Retz and Catherine worked on him; but the King showed unwonted determination, and the influence of the Admiral was aggravatingly apparent.

‘Madame,’ he shouted at Catherine, ‘I have sworn to bring to justice those who would have murdered him, and this I will do.’

‘You are a fool,’ said Catherine. ‘You do not know what he plans for you.’

‘He is my friend and I trust him. Whatever happened, the Huguenots would never harm me. He is their leader and he loves me as a son.’

‘He has bewitched you with his fine words.’

Retz said: ‘Sire, you are misled by this man. He would sacrifice you if the need arose. You remember what I told you of atrocities committed by Huguenots against Catholics. Let me remind you . .

‘There is no need to remind me. You may go, Comte. I have matters to attend to.’

The Comte hesitated, but the King was eyeing him sternly. Catherine signed to Retz to go, and when he had left, Charles turned to Catherine.

‘You also, Mother,’ he said; but Catherine was not going to be dismissed as easily as that.