"It is not yet late, Madame, and the King of Navarre requires time to dismiss his gentlemen; if he has not already come, he will come soon."
"And I tell you," cried Marguerite, with increasing vexation,—"I tell you that he will not come!"
"Madame!" exclaimed Gillonne, suddenly entering, "the King of Navarre is just leaving his apartments!"
"Oh, I knew he would come!" exclaimed the Duc de Guise.
"Henri," said Marguerite, in a quick tone, and seizing the duke's hand,—"Henri, you shall see if I am a woman of my word, and if I may be relied on. Henri, enter that closet."
"Madame, allow me to go while there is yet time, for reflect that the first mark of love you bestow on him, I shall quit the cabinet, and then woe to him!"
"Are you mad? Go in—go in, I say, and I will be responsible for all;" and she pushed the duke into the closet.
It was time. The door was scarcely closed behind the prince when the King of Navarre, escorted by two pages, who carried eight torches of yellow wax in two candelabra, appeared, smiling, on the threshold of the chamber. Marguerite concealed her trouble, and made a low bow.
"You are not yet in bed, Madame," observed the Béarnais, with his frank and joyous look. "Were you by chance waiting for me?"
"No, Monsieur," replied Marguerite; "for yesterday you repeated to me that our marriage was a political alliance, and that you would never thwart my wishes."