On the appointed day, the believers, silent and agitated, came and took their places not without fear of being discovered. The queen, forgetting the pomps of the Louvre, sat down among them as a simple Christian. Roussel appeared, but not in sacerdotal costume, and stood in front of the table. 'Those who believe that there is nothing but an empty sign in the Sacrament,' he said, 'are not of the school of faith.'[74] He took common bread, says the indignant catholic narrator, 'and not little round wafers stamped with images.'—'Remember,' continued Roussel with a grave voice, 'that Christ suffered and died for us.' He then handed round the cup 'without making the sign of the cross!' The worshippers, deeply moved, bore a heavenly expression on their faces and felt the presence of the Lord: 'The same Christ dwelt in the minister and in the people.' No spy nor cardinal appeared, and the communicants, after presenting an offering for the poor, withdrew in peace.[75] Notwithstanding its secresy, this celebration was talked about in the castle. The King of Navarre was quite annoyed at it. A thoughtless, changeable, and ever violent man, and liable to occasional worldly relapses, he began to grow impatient at his wife's piety, and especially at the 'feastings in the cellar.' He was habitually in a bad humour, and found fault with all that Margaret did. One day as he returned to the castle from a hunting-party, he asked where the queen was. He was told that a minister was preaching in her chamber. At these words the king's face flushed. A faithful servant ran to warn the queen: ministers and hearers escaped by a back way, and they had hardly left the room, when Henry entered abruptly. He stopped, looked round him, and seeing only the queen, agitated and trembling, he struck her in the face, saying: 'Madame, you desire to know too much.' He then left her indignant and confounded. This affront offered to the dignity of the royal family of France did not pass unnoticed: Francis 'scolded Henry d'Albret soundly,' says Brantôme.[76] [Sidenote: THE MYSTERY OF THE NATIVITY.] Margaret, eager to win over her husband and to be agreeable to her court, resolved to have a representation of some biblical dramas. Possibly she might by this means reach those who would not come to the sermons. She took for her subject _The Birth_ _of the Saviour_, and having completed her poem distributed the parts among certain noble maidens. These biblical representations, which displeased Calvin, because of their theatrical form, and the Romish clergy because of their evangelical truths, charmed the middle party, and as they belong to the religious history of the epoch, we cannot pass them by unnoticed. Margaret fitted up the great hall of the castle as a theatre. The scenery was prepared, and shortly after Christmas placards announced the representation of 'The Nativity of Jesus Christ.'[77]