Queen Marguerite answered for the agitated girl, saying that Valentina had gone at her own request to De Nevers, to implore him to renounce her hand; and when Raoul thus knew that Valentina's motive had been a pure and honourable one, and not as he had so jealously imagined, for an unworthy reason, he was filled with joy.
But his joy was quickly turned to grief once more, on learning that Valentina was about to become the bride of another; and at that moment, De Nevers appeared in a splendid barge, in which he was to carry away his bride-elect. As De Nevers landed St. Bris presented his daughter to him with pride, throwing a triumphant glance towards the wretched De Nangis; and, full of elation, the young Catholic noble led his beautiful though now half-fainting fiancée to the barge, in which they were conducted to his mansion, where their nuptials were celebrated that same evening.
Raoul was now plunged into despair at having thus lost the maiden he loved so well, and for several days was almost beside himself with grief; and at last, unable to bear his misery any longer, on the fatal eve of St. Bartholomew, he determined to make an effort to see Valentina once more even at the risk of his life.
Quite unsuspicious of the terrible fate that was to fall on those of his faith that night, the young Huguenot repaired to the mansion of De Nevers, and managed to make his way unperceived into the very room in which Valentina sat, lost in meditation; for she was at the moment bemoaning her sad fate at having been compelled to wed a man she did not love, when her heart was given to another.
As Raoul broke in upon these sad reflections, she was filled with dismay; but scarcely had she exchanged greetings with her distracted lover than she heard the approaching voices of her father and husband, and knew that the discovery of De Nangis alone with her at that hour would mean danger to him and disgrace to herself. In frightened tones she besought him to fly whilst he yet had time; but Raoul declared that he cared not for danger, and would gladly welcome death, since she was lost to him. Valentina, however, entreated him not to be so rash, since his safety was dear to her; and then, finding that the approaching voices were drawing nearer, and that there was no longer time for him to escape, she thrust him behind a heavy curtain, bidding him, by their love, to remain in hiding until the danger was past.
Almost immediately afterwards, De Nevers, St. Bris, and a number of other Catholic lords entered the room, and proceeded to hold a conference; and when they were all assembled, St. Bris unfolded to them the dreadful plot of the Catholic King, Charles IX., whereby at the tolling of a bell that night, the Huguenots, one and all, irrespective of age, sex, or position, were to be massacred without mercy. He next administered an oath, bidding them swear, as good Catholics, to assist in this terrible work, and to show no mercy. All took the oath except De Nevers, who, being of a noble disposition, indignantly refused to disgrace his ancient name by joining in such a murderous enterprise; but, in order to convince the now suspicious lords that he should not betray their plot, even though he would not share in it, he threw his sword at their feet and stood disarmed before them all.
St. Bris then gave his final instructions, bidding the conspirators to disperse in various directions and await the tolling of the bell, which should be the signal for commencing the carnage; and after tying white scarves round their arms, in order to distinguish themselves from their intended victims, the party left the room and departed on their awful mission, leaving the trembling Valentina alone.
No sooner had they gone, than Raoul sprang from his hiding-place, pale and filled with horror at the terrible plot that had, unknown to the assassins, been revealed to him; and hoping yet to be in time to warn his brother Huguenots of the calamity about to fall on them, he would have instantly rushed from the house, had not Valentina held him back, wildly imploring him not to venture into the streets that night, for since she now loved him with her whole heart, his life was too precious for her to bear the thought of his almost certain death, should he take such a risk.
Even in this moment of confusion and danger, Raoul's heart thrilled with a deep joy at thus learning that his love was returned, and he clasped Valentina in his arms in a passionate embrace; but, in spite of this double temptation to remain, his noble nature asserted itself, and upon hearing the sudden clanging of a deep bell, which he knew to be the signal for the Huguenots' doom, he struggled from the tender restraining arms of the now swooning Valentina, as she tried vainly to hold him back, and dashed from the house.
The massacre had already begun, and the streets of Paris were even now running with the innocent blood of the murdered Huguenots, whilst the night was made hideous with the shrieks of the helpless victims and the triumphant cries of those who, in such mistaken zeal, were thus carrying out the dreadful instructions that had been given to them.