"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 st.u.r.dy 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 grat.i.tude. 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 la.s.s like you is well worth a ma.s.s.' 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 n.o.bleman, 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 pa.s.sion for the young Prince Franz of Gerolstein."

"Good G.o.d! 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 t.i.t for tat, and with usury, to the greater glory of the G.o.ddess Aphrodite! And yet, my pet, although I had trained you a true professional of the Abbey of Thalamia, with Cupid for your G.o.d 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 pa.s.sion, 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 G.o.d! 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 n.o.bleman 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 G.o.dspeed, 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 antic.i.p.ated, 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.

CHAPTER III.

THE AVENGERS OF ISRAEL.