"Oh," said Catharine, "my approval is nothing—But who goes there? Send him away, send him away."
Henry started to go to the door to carry out Catharine's order; but at the same instant the portière was raised and Madame de Sauve showed her blond head.
"Madame," said she, "it is Réné, the perfumer, whom your majesty sent for."
Catharine cast a glance as quick as lightning at Henry of Navarre.
The young prince turned slightly red and then fearfully pale. Indeed, the name of his mother's assassin had been spoken; he felt that his face betrayed his emotion, and he went and leaned against the bar of the window.
The little greyhound growled.
At the same moment two persons entered—the one announced, and the other having no need to be so.
The first was Réné, the perfumer, who approached Catharine with all the servile obsequiousness of Florentine servants. He held in his hand a box, which he opened, and all the compartments were seen filled with powders and flasks.
The second was Madame de Lorraine, Marguerite's eldest sister. She entered by a small secret door, which led from the King's closet, and, all pale and trembling, and hoping not to be observed by Catharine, who was examining, with Madame de Sauve, the contents of the box brought by René, seated herself beside Marguerite, near whom the King of Navarre was standing, with his hand on his brow, like one who tries to rouse himself from some sudden shock.
At this instant Catharine turned round.