"Who has told him of La Mole?" asked Marguerite in a low tone.
"No, sire," replied Henry, "Monsieur de la Mole is not here, I regret to say. Otherwise I should have the honor of presenting him to your Majesty at the same time as Monsieur de Coconnas, his friend. They are perfectly inseparable, and both are in the suite of Monsieur d'Alençon."
"Ah! ah! our famous marksman!" said Charles. "Good!" Then frowning:
"Is not this Monsieur de la Mole a Huguenot?" he asked.
"He is converted, sire, and I will answer for him as for myself."
"When you answer for any one, Henriot, after what you did to-day, I have no further right to doubt him. But I should have liked to see this Monsieur de la Mole. However, I can meet him another time."
Giving a last glance about the room, Charles embraced Marguerite, took hold of the arm of the King of Navarre, and led him off.
At the gate of the Louvre Henry wanted to speak to some one.
"Come, come! pass out quickly, Henriot," said Charles. "When I tell you that the air of the Louvre is not good for you this evening, the devil! you must believe me!"
"Ventre saint gris!" murmured Henry; "and what will De Mouy do all alone in my room? I trust the air which is not good for me may be no worse for him!"