Catherine entered, looking pale. The duke made a movement to rise, but she threw herself into his arms and half stifled him with kisses. She did more--she wept. “We must take care,” said Antragues to Ribeirac, “each tear will be paid for by blood.” Catherine now sat down on the foot of the bed. At a sign from Bussy everyone went away but himself. “Will you not go and look after my poor attendants, M. de Bussy? you who are at home here,” said the queen. It was impossible not to go, so he replied, “I am happy to please your majesty,” and he also retired. Catherine wished to discover whether her son were really ill or feigning. But he, worthy son of such a mother, played his part to perfection. She had wept, he had a fever. Catherine, deceived, thought him really ill, and hoped to have more influence over a mind weakened by suffering. She overwhelmed him with tenderness, embraced him, and wept so much that at last he asked her the reason. “You have run so great a risk,” replied she. “In escaping from the Louvre, mother?” “No, after.” “How so?” “Those who aided you in this unlucky escape----” “Well?” “Were your most cruel enemies.” “She wishes to find out who it was,” thought he. “The King of Navarre,” continued she, “the eternal scourge of our race----” “Ah! she knows.” “He boasts of having gained much by it.” “That is impossible, for he had nothing to do with it; and if he had, I am quite safe, as you see. I have not seen the King of Navarre for two years.” “It was not only of danger I spoke!” “Of what, then?” replied the duke, smiling, as he saw the tapestry shake behind the queen. “The king’s anger,” said she, in a solemn voice; “the furious anger which menaces you----” “This danger is something like the other, madame; he may be furious, but I am safe here.” “You believe so?” “I am sure of it; your majesty has announced it to me yourself.” “How so?” “Because if you had been charged only with menaces, you would not have come, and the king in that case would have hesitated to place such a hostage in my hands.” “A hostage! I!” cried she, terrified. “A most sacred and venerable one,” replied the duke, with a triumphant glance at the wall. Catherine was baffled, but she did not know that Bussy was encouraging the duke by signs. “My son,” said she at length, “you are quite right; they are words of peace I bring to you.” “I listen, mother, and I think we shall now begin to understand each other.” CHAPTER LXVII. LITTLE CAUSES AND GREAT EFFECTS.