"Yes, my Father, I did indeed take oath not only to punish your murderer in his own lifetime, but also to visit his sins upon his children after him. There is no doubt of it, O my Father, no doubt! But I did not anticipate what has happened. Are there not obligations even more sacred than the fulfilment of an oath? What duty can compel one to strike down an enemy who puts the sword in one's hand, and presents his bare breast to receive the blow? If you were living, my Father, I am sure you would advise me to postpone my wrath, and not to meet confidence with treachery. Forgive me, then, from the grave, for doing what if you were living you would require me to do. Moreover, something seems to tell me that my vengeance is merely suspended, and that but for a short time. You know on high what we can only feel a presentiment of here below. But the pallor of this sickly king, and the frightful glance with which his mother threatened him, and the predictions (which have thus far proved accurate, and which decree that my own life must fall a prey to that woman's rancorous hatred), and the conspiracies already set on foot against the reign which began only yesterday,—all combine to lead me to think it probable that the boy of sixteen will occupy the throne for a much less time even than the man of forty, and that I shall very soon be able to resume my task and my oath of expiation, my Father, under the reign of another of the sons of Henri II."
CHAPTER XVII
REPORTS AND DENUNCIATIONS
Seven or eight months passed by, unmarked by any important occurrences either for the personages of this story, or for the actors upon the stage of history.
Nevertheless, during that time events of considerable importance were preparing.
To understand what they were, and learn all about them, we have only to pay a visit, on the 25th of February, 1560, to the place of all others where news is supposed to be most plentiful; that is to say, the cabinet of Monsieur le Lieutenant de Police, who was at that time one Monsieur de Braguelonne.
On the evening of the 25th of February, Monsieur de Braguelonne, lounging carelessly on his Cordova leather couch, was listening to the report of Master Arpion, one of his secretaries.
Master Arpion was reading aloud as follows,—
"To-day the notorious thief, Gilles Rose, was arrested in the great hall of the palace, in the act of cutting off the end of a golden girdle, on the person of a canon of Ste. Chapelle."
"A canon of Ste. Chapelle! Well, upon my word!" exclaimed Monsieur de Braguelonne.