"Oh, madame, you are merciless! you will not hear me, you will not understand me. Know, then, that I love you"—
"Silence! I tell you," interrupted Marguerite, placing on his mouth her warm, perfumed hand, which he seized between both of his and pressed eagerly to his lips.
"But"—he whispered.
"Be silent, child—who is this rebel that refuses to obey his queen?"
Then darting out of the closet, she shut the door and stood leaning against the wall pressing her trembling hand to her heart, as if to control it.
"Open, Gillonne."
Gillonne left the room, and an instant after, the fine, intellectual, but rather anxious countenance of the King of Navarre appeared behind the tapestry.
"You have sent for me, madame?"
"Yes, sire. Your majesty received my letter?"
"And not without some surprise, I confess," said Henry, looking round with distrust, which, however, almost instantly vanished from his mind.