"Yes, my Majesty will do you the honor of taking you away from the Louvre. Lend him to me, Margot, I will bring him back to you to-morrow morning."
"Ah, brother," said Marguerite, "you do not need my permission for that; you are master."
"Sire," said Henry, "I will get another cloak from my room, and will return immediately."
"You do not need it, Henriot; the cloak you have is all right."
"But, sire," began the Béarnais.
"In the name of a thousand devils, I tell you not to go to your rooms! Do you not hear what I say? Come along!"
"Yes, yes, go!" said Marguerite, suddenly pressing her husband's arm; for a singular look from Charles had convinced her that something unusual was going on.
"Here I am, sire," said Henry.
Charles looked at Coconnas, who was still carrying out his office of torch-bearer by lighting the other candles.
"Who is this gentleman?" asked the King of Henry, eyeing the Piedmontese from head to foot. "Is he Monsieur de la Mole?"