"To inform the King of Navarre," continued Monsieur de Mouy, "that his abjuration had lost for him the confidence of the Huguenot party; but that, nevertheless, in remembrance of his father, Antoine de Bourbon, and especially on account of his mother, the courageous Jeanne d'Albret, whose name is dear among us, the followers of the reformed religion owed him this mark of deference, to beg him to desist from his claims to the crown of Navarre."
"What did he say?" asked Catharine, unable in spite of her self-control to receive this unexpected blow calmly.
"Ah! ah!" said Charles, "and yet this crown of Navarre, which without my permission has been made to jump from head to head, seems to belong a little to me."
"The Huguenots, sire, recognize better than any one the principle of sovereignty to which your Majesty has just referred. Therefore they hope to induce your Majesty to place the crown on a head that is dear to you."
"To me!" said Charles; "on a head that is dear to me! The devil! what head do you mean, monsieur? I do not understand."
"On the head of Monsieur le Duc d'Alençon."
Catharine became as pale as death, and gave De Mouy a flashing glance.
"Did my brother D'Alençon know this?"
"Yes, sire."
"And did he accept the crown?"