"It is safe for me, because I am nobody at all, and, moreover, I say
whatever is in my thoughts, and am looked upon as a rattlebrain, and not
taken seriously. But it would not be safe for some. There comes the Queen
of Navarre now. She and her ladies have been walking in their garden."

A number of ladies were entering the gallery from a side stairway.
Marguerite de Valois, who ought to have been with her husband, the King
of Navarre, at his little court at Nerac, remained instead at the court
of France, to be its greatest ornament. She was, alas, its greatest
scandal, also. But I admired her none the less for that, as she stood
there, erect among her women, full of color and grace. Vast possibilities
of mischief seemed buried in the depths of the big and brilliant eyes
which gave so much life to the small, round face.

While she stood still for one of her maids to detach from her ruff a
dead leaf that had dropped there during her walk, Bussy d'Amboise
returned from Anjou's apartment. He walked up to her with a conquering
air, bowed, and said something that made her laugh. Then he looked
around and saw me. He spoke to her again, in a low tone, and she cast
her fine eyes in my direction. She directed her ladies to fall back out
of hearing, and again conferred with Bussy. At the end of this he left
her, and strode over to me.

"Monsieur," he said, "the Queen of Navarre would like to know your name.
I do not remember to have heard it last night."

I told him my name, and he took me by the arm, led me to Marguerite, and
presented me, somewhat to my confusion, so rapidly was the thing done.

"You are a newcomer at court?" she said.