At midnight, six days later, on August 24, the tocsin sounded, and the massacre of St. Bartholomew began. The marriage, indeed, was in no sense a love match; but Henry succeeded at once in making Marguerite his friend, for he was alive to the dangers that surrounded him. "Madame," he said, presenting himself at Marguerite's rooms on the night of the wedding festival, "whatever many persons may have said, I think our marriage is a good marriage. I stand well with you--you stand well with me. Therefore, we ought to act towards each other like good allies, since to-day we have been allied in the sight of God! Don't you think so?" "Without question, sir!" "I know, madame, that the ground at court is full of dangerous abysses; and I know that, though I am young and have never injured any person, I have many enemies. The king hates me, his brothers, the Duke of Anjou and the Duke D'Alençon, hate me. Catherine de Medici hated my mother too much not to hate me. Well, against these menaces, which must soon become attacks, I can only defend myself by your aid, for you are beloved by all those who hate me!" "I?" said Marguerite. "Yes, you!" replied Henry. "And if you will--I do not say love me--but if you will be my ally I can brave anything; while, if you become my enemy, I am lost." "Your enemy! Never, sir!" exclaimed Marguerite. "And my ally." "Most decidedly!" And Marguerite turned round and presented her hand to the king. "It is agreed," she said. "Political alliance, frank and loyal?" asked Henry. "Frank and loyal," was the answer. At the door Henry turned and said softly, "Thanks, Marguerite; thanks! You are a true daughter of France. Lacking your love, your friendship will not fail me. I rely on you, as you, for your part, may rely on me. Adieu, madame." He kissed his wife's hand; and then, with a quick step, the king went down the corridor to his own apartment. "I have more need of fidelity in politics than in love," he said to himself. If on both sides there was little attempt at fidelity in love, there was an honourable alliance, which was maintained unbroken and saved the life of Henry of Navarre from his enemies on more than one occasion. On the day of the St. Bartholomew massacre, while the Huguenots were being murdered throughout Paris, Charles IX., instigated by his mother, summoned Henry of Navarre to the royal armoury, and called upon him to turn Catholic or die. "Will you kill me, sire--me, your brother-in-law?" exclaimed Henry. Charles IX. turned away to the open window. "I must kill someone," he cried, and firing his arquebuse, struck a man who was passing. Then, animated by a murderous fury, Charles loaded and fired his arquebuse without stopping, shouting with joy when his aim was successful. "It's all over with me!" said Henry to himself. "When he sees no one else to kill, he will kill me!" Catherine de Medici entered as the king fired his last shot. "Is it done?" she said, anxiously.