"Then call my valets-de-chambre."
When he was in bed, they asked if his reader should attend, for Henri was subject to long fits of wakefulness, and was often read to sleep.
"No," replied the king, "I want no one; only if M. de Joyeuse returns, bring him to me."
"If he returns late, sire?"
"Alas! he is always late; but whatever be the hour, bring him here."
The servants extinguished the candles and lighted a lamp of essences, which gave a pale blue flame, that the king liked. Henri was tired, and soon slept, but not for long; he awoke, thinking he heard a noise in the room.
"Joyeuse," he asked; "is it you?"
No one replied. The light burned dim, and only threw faint circles on the ceiling of carved oak.
"Alone, still!" murmured the king. "Mon Dieu! I am alone all my life, as I shall be after death."
"'Alone after death'; that is not certain," said a powerful voice near the bed.