elf with guesses
whether his project had been discovered. Indeed, there were moments when
he fancied the frustration of his purpose the special object of Queen
Catherine's journey, but he had the wisdom to keep any such suggestion
to himself.

The King came back by supper-time, looking no longer in a state of
indecision, but pale and morose. He spoke to no one as he entered, and
afterwards took his place at the head of the supper-table in silence,
which he did not break till the meal was nearly over. Then he said
abruptly, 'Gentlemen, our party has been broken up, and I imagine that
after our great hunt tomorrow, no one will have any objection to return
to Paris. We shall have merrier sport at Fontainebleau when this most
troublesome of weddings is over.'

There was nothing to be done but to bow acquiescence, and the King again
became grimly silent. After supper he challenged Coligny to a game of
chess, and not a word passed during the protracted contest, either from
the combatants or any other person in the hall. It was as if the light
had suddenly gone out to others besides the disappointed and anxious
Berenger, and a dull shadow had fallen on the place only yesterday so
lively, joyous, and hopeful.

Berenger, chained by the etiquette of the royal presence, sat like a
statue, his back against the wall, his arms crossed on his breast, his
eyes fixed, chewing the cud of the memories of his dream of bliss, or
striving to frame the future to his will, and to decide what was the
next reasonable step he could take, or whether his irrepressible longing
to ride straight off to Monceaux, claim his wife, and take her on
horseback behind him, were a mere impracticable vision.

The King, having been checkmated twice out of three times by the
Admiral, too honest a man not truly to accept his declaration of not
wanting courtly play, pushed away the board, and was attended by them
all to his COUCHER, which was usually made in public; and the Queen
being absent, the gentlemen were required to stand around him till he
was ready