"Yes, Madame," observed Mary Stuart, "but you added, the king's will should be enlightened by those persons who are interested only in his glory and his welfare. Now, no one is more interested than I, his wife, in either of those subjects, I fancy; and I advise him, as my uncle De Guise does, to believe rather in the loyalty than in the perfidy of a tried and valiant subject, and not to begin his reign with an iniquitous act." "Do you yield to such suggestions as these, my son?" Catherine asked once more. "I yield to the voice of my conscience, Mother," replied the young king, with more firmness than could have been expected of him. "Is this your last word, François?" continued Catherine. "Be careful! If you refuse your mother the first request that she makes of you; if you thus assume the attitude of an independent master toward her, and act like the docile instrument of others,--you may reign alone, with or without your faithful ministers. I will have nothing more to do with anything that concerns king or kingdom, but I will deprive you of the benefit of my experience and devotion. I will return to my retirement, and abandon you, my son. Consider, consider well!" "We should deplore her retirement, but would resign ourselves to bear it," murmured Mary Stuart, in a low voice which none but François heard. But the amorous, imprudent youth, like a faithful echo, repeated aloud,-- "We should deplore your retirement, but would resign ourselves to bear it, Madame." "Ah, very good!" was all Catherine said. Then she continued in a voice of suppressed rage, pointing at Gabriel,-- "As for that villain, I shall meet with him again, sooner or later." "I know it, Madame," replied the young man, whose mind was still dwelling on the horoscope. But Catherine heard him not. In a perfect fury of wrath, she included the charming young king and queen and the Duc de Guise in a baleful glance, viperish and awful,--a fatal glance, wherein one might have read the promise of all the crimes dictated by Catherine's ambition and the whole sombre history of the last kings of the Valois line. Without another word she left the room. CHAPTER XVI GUISE AND COLIGNY After Catherine de Médicis's departure, there was a moment of silence. The young king seemed amazed at his own hardihood; while Mary, with the keen intuition of affection, could not avoid a shudder at the thought of the queen-mother's last threatening glance. The Duc de Guise was secretly delighted to find himself thus freed from an ambitious and dangerous associate before his first hour of authority was at an end. Gabriel, who was the occasion of all this trouble, was the first to speak.