“Perhaps; but long years hence. His hair will be gray before the poniard I see hovering over him strikes. But, as I have said to-night, there is a cloud upon his star. Long he will certainly escape steel, fire, illness, or accident; he will bear a charmed life. Madame, the King of Navarre will be a proper husband for Madame Marguerite.”
“But how of that bold man, the Duc de Guise, who dares without my leave to aspire to the hand of the Princess?” asked Catherine.
“Henri de Guise, madame, will die a violent death, as will his father and Coligni. The Admiral will be stabbed in his own house. This is certain.”
The Queen smiles, and for a time is silent.
“Tell me,” at length she almost whispers, “have you discovered anything more about myself and my sons?”
“Madame, I tremble to reply,” replies Ruggiero, hesitating.
“Speak, I command you, Cosmo.”
Catherine rises, and lays her hand heavily upon his arm. Her eyes meet his.
“If I must reveal the future of your Majesty and the royal princes, well, let it be done. Your Majesty can but kill me. I fear not death.”
“Fool, your life is safe!”