Catherine’s eyes were gleaming and there was the faintest colour under her skin. She saw now that the time had come, the moment for which she had said she would wait, when she had paced the gallery of the palace of Bayonne with Alva.

Here was the moment. It was inescapable. There must be no fighting between the Catholics and Huguenots in Paris. If there was, Guise would assume the role of King, and who knew what outcome that would have? Ironical it would be if the Catholics won and decided they would put their hero on the throne! He was a Prince; he had a slight claim. It might be that, in spite of the stoppage of the mail, the news of the Catholic-Huguenot wedding was already carried over the border and into Spain . into Rome. If what she planned could be brought to pass, she would have more heads than that of Coligny to send to Rome. And the news she would send would make both Philip and Gregory forget all about a mere marriage.

‘I do not mean that you should leave Paris in fact, Messieurs. No. Pretend to leave Paris with the members of your family who are here with you. Ride out by the Porte St Antoine . . . ride a little way out . . . then assume a disguise and, at dusk, come riding back. Keep yourselves hidden for a little while . . . here in this house, so that none but your trusted followers know that you are here. I could not have you leave Paris, my friends, for you will be needed for the task which lies ahead of us.

‘And the task, Madame?’ asked Guise.

‘To rid France of these pestilential Huguenots for ever . . . and at one sweep.’


* * *

Later that day the city was seething with excitement. The Guises had left Paris! They had, it appeared, almost slunk out without ceremony and without followers, as though they were eager to escape from the city at the greatest possible speed. The Catholics were aghast; the Huguenots were jubilant. What could this mean, they asked each other, but that the Guises were in disgrace? The King then was siding with the Huguenots. If this were so, said the Huguenots, all that the Admiral had suffered was not in vain.

There was an incident in the Tuileries gardens; a Huguenot started trouble with a member of the King’s Guard who had refused him entry, whereupon Huguenots rushed into the gardens and demanded justice. Téligny, with great wisdom, managed to avert disaster, but the tension had increased.

Catherine had now determined to act quickly. She called a meeting, but it was a secret gathering, and it took place in the shady alleys of the Tuileries gardens, whither her fellow conspirators came to join her and Anjou, who had her confidence in this matter. All these conspirators were Italian, and she had selected them because she believed that her fellow countrymen were more skilled in the art of murder than the French. There were Retz and Birago, those two whom she had set to tutor the King; Louis of Gonzaga, the Duke of Nevers; and the two Florentines, Caviaga and Petrucci.

‘My friends,’ whispered Catherine when they were all assembled, ‘the Admiral must die and die speedily. You can see there will be no peace in this land until he is dead.’

It was agreed that what she said was true.

‘And now,’ she said, ‘we must decide which are the best means to employ.’

And while she talked she was alert for the arrival of a man whom she had employed more than once in delicate matters, and who, she had arranged, should on this occasion burst in on them with news of a plot which he had just discovered; for she had decided that she would need great justification for what she was about to propose, and the alleged discovery by this man would provide that justification.

His entrance was perfectly timed.

He had the alert eyes of the spy, this Bouchavannes. Installed in the house in the Rue Béthisy ever since the Admiral had been in Paris, it had been his duty to repeat to the Queen Mother all that he had heard and seen during his sojourn there. Now he had a startling story to tell. The Huguenots, he declared, planned revolt. They were going to rise and take possession of the Louvre, kill every member of the royal family, set Henry of Navarre on the throne of France and subdue the Catholics for ever.

‘Messieurs,’ said Catherine, ‘now we know what we must do. There is only one path open to us.’

‘What are Your Majesty’s plans?’ asked Retz.

Catherine replied calmly: ‘To destroy, monsieur, not only the Admiral, but every Huguenot in Paris . . . before they destroy us. We must preserve absolute secrecy. Only those who are with us and whom we can trust must know our plans. And, Messieurs, we must get to work at once, for there is little time to be lost if we would strike at them before they strike at us.’

‘Madame,’ Nevers reminded her, ‘it would be necessary to obtain the consent of the King before such a matter could be undertaken. It must have a seal of authority. If Guise were in Paris we could rely on him to rally every Catholic in Paris to the cause.’

Catherine permitted herself a smile. ‘Have no fear. Monsieur de Guise will be here at the right moment. As for the King, leave him to me. Monsieur de Retz, you were his tutor and you know him well. I may need your help in persuading him.’

‘Madame,’ said Retz, ‘the King has changed. He is not the pliable boy we once knew. He is now obsessed by the idea of avenging the Admiral.’

‘Then we must jerk him out of his obsession.’ She turned her cold stare on Retz, and looked from him to the others. ‘We must meet again. We must call together all those whom we can trust. I will see that Monsieur de Guise and his family are with us. As for the King we must get to work on him at once.’


* * *

Together, Retz and Catherine worked on him; but the King showed unwonted determination, and the influence of the Admiral was aggravatingly apparent.

‘Madame,’ he shouted at Catherine, ‘I have sworn to bring to justice those who would have murdered him, and this I will do.’

‘You are a fool,’ said Catherine. ‘You do not know what he plans for you.’

‘He is my friend and I trust him. Whatever happened, the Huguenots would never harm me. He is their leader and he loves me as a son.’

‘He has bewitched you with his fine words.’

Retz said: ‘Sire, you are misled by this man. He would sacrifice you if the need arose. You remember what I told you of atrocities committed by Huguenots against Catholics. Let me remind you . .

‘There is no need to remind me. You may go, Comte. I have matters to attend to.’

The Comte hesitated, but the King was eyeing him sternly. Catherine signed to Retz to go, and when he had left, Charles turned to Catherine.

‘You also, Mother,’ he said; but Catherine was not going to be dismissed as easily as that.

‘My dear son,’ she said, ‘I must speak to you of certain matters which are for your ear alone and which I would not discuss even before a faithful servant like the Comte de Retz. News has been brought to me—news of which you should be made aware at once.’

‘And this news is?’

‘Of a Huguenot plot to murder you.’

The King shrugged his shoulders impatiently. ‘I have seen the Admiral. I know that he wishes me nothing but good. Would he allow such a plot to be made?’

‘Yes, he would; and he is the ringleader. I see that you do not believe your mother who has worked so assiduously for your good. Perhaps others may be able to impress you.’ She pulled a bell rope and when an attendant appeared, asked that Bouchavannes should be sent to her.

‘Bouchavannes?’ said the King. ‘Who is this?’

‘A good friend to Your Majesty, and one who, at great peril to himself, took a post in the Admiral’s house, that he might watch your interests. He will tell you what he heard while he was there.’

Bouchavannes entered.

‘Ah, Monsieur,’ said Catherine, ‘I have brought you here that you may tell the King in person what you have discovered in the house of his enemy.’

Bouchavannes kissed the King’s hand while Charles scowled at him.

‘Speak, man,’ growled the King.

‘Your Majesty, there is a plot against your life. The Huguenots under the Admiral are about to rise. It is for this reason that they are here in Paris. They plot to take your family, to kill your mother, your brothers and sisters, in most brutal fashion. Yourself they will keep in confinement. They will tell the people that they are offering you a chance to keep the throne if you become a Huguenot. They will torture you; they will say it is to make a Huguenot of you, but it will not matter if you do change your religion, for they do not wish you to reign. They propose to set up their own King in your place.’

‘It is a lie!’ cried the King.

‘I can only say, Sire, that this is what I heard in the Admiral’s house where there were constant meetings and councils. I listened at doors. I kept my eyes and ears open . . . for love of Your Majesty and the Queen Mother who has always been my friend. Your Majesty, be warned in time.’

The King’s fingers were twitching. ‘I do not believe a word of this.’ He turned to his mother. ‘Ring for the guards. I will have him arrested. I will confront him with the Admiral and we will see if he can tell his lies then. Ring! Ring! Or shall I do it myself?’

Catherine signed for Bouchavannes to leave them; she herself restrained the King, but he struggled in her grasp and she was alarmed. He was not strong, but his strength seemed to grow when his mad moods were on him, and she noticed with dismay that one was threatening now. She must keep him balanced on the side of sanity that she might terrify him utterly and so make sure of his obedience to her wishes.

‘Listen to me, my son. You give in too easily. Horrible death awaits you. That is true. The good God only knows what diabolical torture they are planning for you. All we know is this: it will be more terrible than that meted out to ordinary men. It is not every day that they have a King to torture. Oh,, my darling, do not tremble so. Here, let me wipe the sweat from your poor brow. You must not give in. Do you think your mother will allow them to hurt her son, her little King?’

‘How . . . could you stop them? They will kill you too.’

‘No, my son. All these years since the death of your father, I have fought the enemies of our family. I . . . single-handed, a weak woman. Your brother was King until he died, poor boy; then you were King, and for twelve years I have kept the throne for you in difficulties and against odds such as you cannot yet understand. When my history is written it will be said: “There was a woman who lived for her sons alone. There is the most devoted mother the world has ever known, for in spite of plots and treachery, in spite of the suspicion of her own children, she won their rights for them, and she held their rights; she sacrificed her life for them.” That is true, is it not, my son? Have you not been King since the death of your brother Francis? And that in spite of all the wicked men who have sought to dethrone you!’

‘Yes, Mother, it is true.’

‘Well then, will you not listen to your mother now?’

‘Yes, Mother, yes. But I cannot believe that Coligny would be treacherous towards me. He is such a good man. He is so brave.’

‘He is a good man according to his lights as a Huguenot. He is undoubtedly brave. But he is not your man, my son. To his enemies we know he is ruthless, and you, perforce, are his enemy.’

‘No! I am his friend. He loves me as a son. He would not lie to me when it might well be that he is about to face his God.’

‘He would think he did right to lie for the sake of his faith. That is his way, my son. It is the way of them all. Oh, be guided by your mother. Do not let them drag you from your family. Do not let them take you to the torture chambers, stretch your poor limbs, mutilate your dear body. I would not let Bouchavannes tell you of all the things they threaten to do to you.’

‘You know then! You . . . you must tell me.’

‘It is better not to know, my son. If you are determined to sacrifice yourself and your family for the Admiral, then for the love of God do not ask me to tell you of the tortures they are preparing for you. Have you ever seen a man roasted to death over a slow fire? No. You could not face it. Have you ever seen flesh torn with red-hot pincers and molten lead poured into the wounds? Nay! You could never bear to see such things.’

‘They have said . . . they will do . . . these things to me!’