“‘Look at this hand, Marie,’ said he; ‘it is the hand of a good brother and a loyal friend; and but for this hand—’
“‘Well, Sire!’
“‘But for this hand, this day, Marie, our boy had been fatherless.’
“Marie uttered a cry, seized Henri’s hand, and kissed it.
“The king went to the bed where the child was still asleep.
“‘Eh!’ said he, ‘if this stout boy slept in the Louvre, instead of sleeping in this small house, he would change the aspect of things at present, and perhaps for the future.’
“‘Sire,’ said Marie, ‘without offence to your Majesty, I prefer his sleeping here; he sleeps better.’”
This illustrates only one phase of Dumas’ power of portraiture, based on historical fact, of course, and casting no new light on matters which are otherwise well known, but still a very fresh and vivifying method of projecting the features of those famous in the history of France, and a method, perhaps, which will serve to impress them upon the reader in a more nearly indelible fashion than any other.
“It was this child of Marie Touchet and Charles IX. who afterward was the famous Duke d’Angoulême, who died in 1650; and, had he been legitimate, would have taken precedence of Henri III., Henri IV., Louis XIII., Louis XIV., etc., and altered the whole line of the royal succession of France.”
It was a pleasurable visit for all three, that of which Dumas writes.