But Gabriel was strong and brave of heart, and filled with steadfast resolution. After the consternation of the first moments had abated, he shook off his despondency, held his head aloft once more, and requested an audience of the queen.
Catherine de Médicis had no doubt heard of this mysterious tragedy of her husband and the Comte de Montgommery; in fact, who knows that she did not herself play a part in it. At that time she was hardly more than twenty years old. Was it not likely that the jealousy of a beautiful but abandoned young wife would cause her to keep her eyes constantly open to every act and every misstep of her rival? Gabriel relied upon her memory to throw light upon the darkness of the path along which he was groping his way, but where he was so much interested in having his course made clear to him both as lover and as son, for his happiness' sake or for his revenge.
Catherine received Vicomte d'Exmès with that marked kindness which she had not failed to show him on every occasion.
"Is it you, my handsome king of the lists?" said she. "To what happy chance do I owe this welcome visit? You very seldom honor us, Monsieur d'Exmès; and I think this is the very first time that you have sought an audience of us in our apartments. But you are and always will be a welcome guest, remember that."
"Madame," said Gabriel. "I do not know how to thank you for such kindness; rest assured that my devotion—"
"Oh, never mind your devotion!" interposed the queen; "but let us come to the object which brings you here. Can I serve you in any way?"
"Yes, Madame, I think that you can."
"So much the better, Monsieur d'Exmès," replied Catherine, with a most engaging smile; "and if what you ask of me lies in my power, I promise beforehand to grant it. That may be rather a compromising agreement, perhaps, but I know you will not make an unfair use of it, my good friend."
"God forbid, Madame! I have no such intention."
"Go on, then, and tell me," said the queen, sighing.