"Sire, a letter from Madame de Castro for your Majesty."
"From Madame de Castro?" repeated Henri, eagerly.
With a quick and impulsive movement, he rose from his seat, and descended the steps which led to the royal platform, took Diane's letter with his own hands, and said in a low tone to Gabriel,—
"It is true, Monsieur, you not only restore a daughter to the king, but a child to her father. I am doubly indebted to you. But let me read the letter."
As the courtiers, still motionless and mute, were respectfully awaiting the king's commands, Henri, feeling annoyed by this observant silence, added aloud,—
"Let me not restrain the expression of your gratification, Messieurs. I have no further news to give you; what remains is a private matter between myself and the messenger of our cousin De Guise. So you have only to discuss the glad intelligence, and congratulate yourselves upon it; and you are quite free now to do so, Messieurs."
The royal permission was quickly accepted; the party separated into groups and began to converse, and soon nothing was to be heard but the indistinct and confused buzzing which is always the combined result of a hundred different conversations in the same room.
Madame de Poitiers and the constable still thought of nothing but keeping watch upon the king and Gabriel.
With an interchange of speaking glances, they had communicated their mutual dread to one another; and Diane, by a slight and almost imperceptible movement, had drawn near her royal lover.
Henri did not notice the jealous couple, being entirely absorbed by his daughter's letter.