"This is very well!" said he, well pleased with the forced docility of Master Paré. "When I think that if it had not been for me you would have opened the king's head in such fashion! Kings of France are only wounded so upon the battle-field, do you see? The steel of an enemy may touch them, but a surgeon's knife never!" And then, exulting over the dejected attitude of the Duc de Guise, he continued,-- "It was quite time that I should arrive, thank God! Ah, Messieurs, they tell me that you proposed to cut off the head of my dear brave nephew, the Prince de Condé! But you aroused the old lion in his lair, and behold him! I have delivered the prince; I have addressed the States-General, who are restive under your oppression. I have, as constable, dismissed the guards you stationed at the gates of Orléans. Since when has it been customary thus to furnish guards to the king, as if he were not safe in the midst of his loyal subjects?" "Of what king are you speaking?" demanded Ambroise Paré; "for soon there will be no king save Charles IX.,--for you see, Messieurs," said he to the physicians, "that despite your injection, the brain is already affected, and is beginning to be filled." Catherine de Médicis clearly read in the hopeless air of Ambroise that all hope was at an end. "Your reign is over, then, Monsieur," she could not forbear remarking to Le Balafré. François II. at that moment suddenly raised himself in bed, opened his great staring eyes, moved his lips as if struggling to pronounce a name, then fell heavily back upon his pillow. He was dead. Ambroise Paré, with a sorrowful gesture, made the fact known to those present. "Ah, Madame, Madame! you have killed your son!" cried Mary Stuart to Catherine, leaping toward her in a frenzy of despair. The queen-mother bestowed upon her daughter-in-law a venomous, icy glance, in which shone all the hatred she had concealed for eighteen months. "You, my dear," she sneered, "have no longer the right to speak thus, remember; for you are no longer queen. Ah, I beg your pardon!--queen of Scotland. And we will send you over as soon as possible to reign in your land of fogs." Mary, with the reaction inevitable after her first burst of grief, fell on her knees, exhausted and sobbing bitterly, at the foot of the bed where the king was lying. "Madame de Fiesque," continued Catherine, calmly, "go at once and bring the Duc d'Orléans." "Messieurs," she resumed, glancing at the Duc de Guise and the cardinal, "the States-General, which were devoted to you, it may be, an hour since, are now at our service, be assured. It is understood between Monsieur de Bourbon and myself that I shall be queen-regent, and he lieutenant-general of the kingdom; but you are still grand master, Monsieur de Guise. Therefore perform the functions of your office, and announce the demise of King François II." "The king is dead!" said Le Balafré, in a deep, hollow voice.