Catherine's wrath, which she had restrained up to that time, now burst forth; she had not yet succeeded in accustoming to treat as king a son who was still almost a child; moreover, she believed herself to be secure in the support of the Duc de Guise, who had not declared himself thus far, and whom she did not know to be the devoted patron, and, we might almost say, a tacit accomplice of the Comte de Montgommery. Thus she dared to give free vent to her ire.

"Ah, this is the way matters stand!" she said in reply to Mary Stuart's last words, which were slightly contemptuous. "I claim a right, and I am laughed at. I ask, in all moderation, that the murderer of Henri II. may at least be interrogated: and when he declines to justify his act, his silence is approved,—nay, more, it is even applauded. Very well! since things have come to such a pass, away with cowardly reserve and half-measures! I proclaim myself aloud as the accuser of the Comte de Montgommery. Will the king refuse justice to his mother because she is his mother? We will examine the constable, and Madame de Poitiers, too, if necessary! The truth shall be brought to light; and if secrets of State are involved in this affair, we will have the judgment and sentence kept secret. But the death of a king treacherously murdered before the eyes of all his subjects shall, at any price, be avenged."

During this harangue of the queen-mother, a sad and resigned smile played about Gabriel's lips.

He recalled, in his own mind, the last two lines of Nostradamus's prediction,—

"Enfin, l'aimera, puis las! le tuera,
Dame du roy."

And so the prophecy, thus far so faithfully fulfilled, was to be accomplished to the end! Catherine would cause the condemnation and death of him whom she had loved! Gabriel expected it, and was ready for it.

However, the Florentine, thinking perhaps that she might have gone too far, checked herself a moment; and turning with her most gracious manner to the Duc de Guise, who was still silent, she said,—

"But you say nothing, Monsieur de Guise. You are of my opinion, are you not?"

"No, Madame," replied Le Balafré, slowly; "no, I confess that I am not of your opinion, and that is why I said nothing."

"Ah, you too turn against me!" rejoined Catherine, in a hollow, threatening voice.