"
The queen, whose face was flushed with fever, made a fretful
movement but did not answer.
"Do you wish me to ask him?" Henry said with admirable patience.
"If you think it is worth while," she muttered, turning sullenly
and eyeing me from the middle of her pillows with disdain and
ill-temper.
"I will, then," he answered, and he turned to me. "M. de Rosny,"
he said in a formal tone, which even without the unaccustomed
monsieur cut me to the heart, "be good enough to tell the queen
how the key to my secret cipher, which I entrusted to you, has
come to be in Madame de Verneuil's possession."
I looked at him in the profoundest astonishment, and for a moment
remained silent, trying to collect my thoughts under this
unexpected blow. The queen saw my hesitation and laughed
spitefully. "I am afraid, sire," she said, "that you have
overrated this gentleman's ingenuity, though doubtless it has
been much exercised in your service."
Henry's face grew red with vexation. "Speak, man!" he cried.
"How came she by it?"
"Madame de Verneuil?" I said.
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