Before the Count could reply the surgeon appears. He desires that every one shall be turned out of the King’s bedroom whilst he examines him. He pronounces the wound mortal; the dagger was poisoned. Henry, after great anguish, expires in a few hours. The letters were forgeries. The body of Jacques Clément, having first been drawn by four horses through the streets of Saint-Cloud, is burned by the common hangman. He is much lauded, however, at Rome, where Sixtus V. reigns as Pontiff; at Paris his effigy is placed upon the altars beside the Host.
Meanwhile the King of Navarre is within his quarters at Meudon. His minister Sully lodges a little way down the hill, in the house of a man called Sauvat. Sully is just sitting down to supper, when his secretary enters and desires him to go instantly to his master.
Henry of Navarre tells him that an express has arrived from Saint-Cloud, and that the King is already dead, or dying. “Sully,” he says, “for what I know, I may be at this very instance King of France. Yet, who will support me? Half my army will desert if Henry be really dead. Not a prince of the blood—not a minister will stand by me. I am here, as it were, in the midst of an enemy’s country, with but a handful of followers. What is to be done?”
“Stay where you are, Sire, is my advice,” answers Sully. “If you are, indeed, now King of France, remain with such as are faithful to you. A monarch should never fly. But let us go to Saint-Cloud and hear the truth.”
“That is just what I desire,” answers Henry. “We will start as soon as our horses are saddled.”
As they enter the gates of Saint-Cloud, a man rushes by them, shouting, “The King is dead—the King is dead!” Henry reins up his horse. The Swiss Guard, posted round the château, perceive him. They throw down their arms and cast themselves at his feet. “Sire,” they cry, “now you are our King and master, do not forsake us.” Biron, the Duc de Bellegarde, the Comte d’O, M. de Châteauvieux, and De Dampierre come up; they all warmly salute Henry as their sovereign.
But the bonfires that already blaze in the streets of Paris at the news of the death of the King, warn Henry of Navarre that he must fight as many battles to gain the Crown, as he has already done to secure his personal liberty.
CHAPTER XXIII.
DON JUAN.
THE wars of the League rage fiercer than ever. By the death of the last Valois, Henry III., Henry IV., a Bourbon, is King of France.[19] But he is only acknowledged by his Protestant subjects. To the Catholics he is but a rebel, and still only King of Navarre. The Duc de Mayenne (a Guise, brother of the Balafré), subsidised with money and troops by Spain, is the orthodox pretender to the