Ambroise Pare had by this time examined the king’s head; he thought the moment propitious for his operation; if it was not performed suffusion would take place, and Francois II. might die at any moment.  As soon as the duke and cardinal entered the chamber he explained to all present that in so urgent a case it was necessary to trepan the head, and he now waited till the king’s physician ordered him to perform the operation.

“Cut the head of my son as though it were a plank!—­with that horrible instrument!” cried Catherine de’ Medici.  “Maitre Ambroise, I will not permit it.”

The physicians were consulting together; but Catherine spoke in so loud a voice that her words reached, as she intended they should, beyond the door.

“But, madame, if there is no other way to save him?” said Mary Stuart, weeping.

“Ambroise,” cried Catherine; “remember that your head will answer for the king’s life.”

“We are opposed to the treatment suggested by Maitre Ambroise,” said the three physicians.  “The king can be saved by injecting through the ear a remedy which will draw the contents of the abscess through that passage.”

The Duc de Guise, who was watching Catherine’s face, suddenly went up to her and drew her into the recess of the window.

“Madame,” he said, “you wish the death of your son; you are in league with our enemies, and have been since Blois.  This morning the Counsellor Viole told the son of your furrier that the Prince de Conde’s head was about to be cut off.  That young man, who, when the question was applied, persisted in denying all relations with the prince, made a sign of farewell to him as he passed before the window of his dungeon.  You saw your unhappy accomplice tortured with royal insensibility.  You are now endeavoring to prevent the recovery of your eldest son.  Your conduct forces us to believe that the death of the dauphin, which placed the crown on your husband’s head was not a natural one, and that Montecuculi was your—­”

“Monsieur le chancilier!” cried Catherine, at a sign from whom Madame de Fiesque opened both sides of the bedroom door.

The company in the hall then saw the scene that was taking place in the royal chamber:  the livid little king, his face half dead, his eyes sightless, his lips stammering the word “Mary,” as he held the hand of the weeping queen; the Duchesse de Guise motionless, frightened by Catherine’s daring act; the duke and cardinal, also alarmed, keeping close to the queen-mother and resolving to have her arrested on the spot by Maille-Breze; lastly, the tall Ambroise Pare, assisted by the king’s physician, holding his instrument in his hand but not daring to begin the operation, for which composure and total silence were as necessary as the consent of the other surgeons.

“Monsieur le chancelier,” said Catherine, “the Messieurs de Guise wish to authorize a strange operation upon the person of the king; Ambroise Pare is preparing to cut open his head.  I, as the king’s mother and a member of the council of the regency,—­I protest against what appears to me a crime of lese-majeste.  The king’s physicians advise an injection through the ear, which seems to me as efficacious and less dangerous than the brutal operation proposed by Pare.”