When Robertet entered, the lieutenant-general pointed to the chancellor. “I appoint you chancellor of France in the place of that traitor,” he said. “Monsieur de Maille, take Monsieur de l’Hopital and put him in the prison of the Prince de Conde. As for you, madame,” he added, turning to Catherine; “your protest will not be received; you ought to be aware that any such protest must be supported by sufficient force. I act as the faithful subject and loyal servant of king Francois II., my master. Go on, Antoine,” he added, looking at the surgeon. “Monsieur de Guise,” said l’Hopital; “if you employ violence either upon the king or upon the chancellor of France, remember that enough of the nobility of France are in that hall to rise and arrest you as a traitor.” “Oh! my lords,” cried the great surgeon; “if you continue these arguments you will soon proclaim Charles IX!--for king Francois is about to die.” Catherine de’ Medici, absolutely impassive, gazed from the window. “Well, then, we shall employ force to make ourselves masters of this room,” said the cardinal, advancing to the door. But when he opened it even he was terrified; the whole house was deserted! The courtiers, certain now of the death of the king, had gone in a body to the king of Navarre. “Well, go on, perform your duty,” cried Mary Stuart, vehemently, to Ambroise. “I--and you, duchess,” she said to Madame de Guise,--“will protect you.” “Madame,” said Ambroise; “my zeal was carrying me away. The doctors, with the exception of my friend Chapelain, prefer an injection, and it is my duty to submit to their wishes. If I had been chief surgeon and chief physician, which I am not, the king’s life would probably have been saved. Give that to me, gentlemen,” he said, stretching out his hand for the syringe, which he proceeded to fill. “Good God!” cried Mary Start, “but I order you to--” “Alas! madame,” said Ambroise, “I am under the direction of these gentlemen.” The young queen placed herself between the surgeon, the doctors, and the other persons present. The chief physician held the king’s head, and Ambroise made the injection into the ear. The duke and the cardinal watched the proceeding attentively. Robertet and Monsieur de Maille stood motionless. Madame de Fiesque, at a sign from Catherine, glided unperceived from the room. A moment later l’Hopital boldly opened the door of the king’s chamber. “I arrive in good time,” said the voice of a man whose hasty steps echoed through the great hall, and who stood the next moment on the threshold of the open door. “Ah, messieurs, so you meant to take off the head of my good nephew, the Prince de Conde? Instead of that, you have forced the lion from his lair and--here I am!” added the Connetable de Montmorency. “Ambroise, you shall not plunge your knife into the head of my king. The first prince of the blood, Antoine de Bourbon, the Prince de Conde, the queen-mother, the Connetable, and the chancellor forbid the operation.”