"It may be," suggested La Bonne mildly, "that the king wishes to give him orders not to break the peace."

"It seems to me," said Felix, "that we might employ our time better than in inventing excuses for our enemies. This visit to the Louvre means that Charles has gone over to the side of Anjou and Guise."

"It may be so," agreed Carnaton, "but we have no proof."

"Proof!" cried my comrade with a mocking laugh, "it will be sufficient proof when one of Anjou's troopers runs a sword through your heart!"

Carnaton was about to reply when he was summoned to attend the Admiral, and we settled down to wait doggedly for the next piece of information.

It was not long in coming. A messenger despatched by La Bonne returned a few minutes before three o'clock. His face was pale, and he had a frightened look which was far from rea.s.suring.

"Well?" exclaimed La Bonne, "what news?" "Ill news, monsieur," replied the man. "Guise has left the Louvre and is in the city. The streets are crowded and the citizens are wild with excitement. He is stirring them up against us, and they are cheering him, and crying that the Huguenots ought not to live."

We gazed at each other blankly; this certainly did not appear as if Charles had given him any peaceful commands. Nor was our alarm lessened when an hour later another spy reported that Anjou and Angouleme were following Guise's example, and doing their best to rouse the pa.s.sions of the people.

"They are telling the citizens," our messenger said, "that a plot to take the king's life, and to slay Monseigneur has been discovered, and the citizens are crying for vengeance on the Huguenots."

"Guise and Anjou will see to it that they get their vengeance," I remarked, for it was no longer possible to doubt that our enemies had determined on our destruction. We had put our trust in Charles; if he deserted us it was all over.

"At least," said La Bonne, "if we have to die, we will die like men."

"With our swords in our hands, and not in their scabbards!" exclaimed Felix, and a fierce growl of approval greeted his words.

As the day wore to a close it became more and more plain that, as my comrade had declared, we were like hunted animals caught in a trap. We might sell our lives dearly, but we could not hope to fight successfully against the royal troops and a city in arms.

Only one chance of escape presented itself. By banding together and making a determined rush we might force a pa.s.sage through the streets, and seek safety in flight; but to do this we must abandon our ill.u.s.trious chief, whose weakness prevented him from being moved. I hope it is needless to add that every Huguenot gentleman in Paris would have lost his life fifty times over rather than have agreed to such a base proceeding.

About seven o'clock in the evening many of Navarre's gentlemen left the house, and some of us accompanied them to the end of the street. La Bonne having received favourable news from the palace, our alarm, in consequence, had begun to subside, though we still remained a trifle anxious.

We were returning in a body to the _hotel_, Felix and I being the last of the company, when a man slipped a paper into my hand and instantly disappeared.

"Another warning from your strange friend, I suppose," said Felix.

I opened the paper and read hurriedly: "Bring Monsieur Bellievre with you shortly after midnight, and meet me at the little gate of the Louvre where I saw you before. Wrap yourselves up closely, and attract as little attention as possible. Do not fail to come, as I have important news.--D'ANGELY."

"Are you sure this is not a second invitation from the lawyer?" my comrade asked.

"It appears to be L'Estang's handwriting."

"So did the other note."

"True, but Etienne Cordel would not bait a trap for you. He bears you no grudge, and besides you would only be in his way!"

"Yes," said my comrade, "there is something in that. Will you go?"

"Why not? We may learn something that will be useful to our chief.

L'Estang wishes me well, and in order to save my life he may be tempted to disclose what he knows of Guise's conspiracy; for I feel sure there is one."

"If it will serve the Admiral," said Felix hesitatingly.

"It may. I cannot tell, but it is worth running a little risk to discover."

"He has chosen an odd time and an odd place."

"He cannot meet us in broad day, and a thousand causes may prevent him from coming to this quarter. You must remember he is Anjou's servant, and he will not wish to draw suspicion upon himself."

"Very well," said my comrade, "we will go. Carnaton and La Bonne are on duty to-night."

As the evening closed in the streets began to empty; our comrades went off to their lodgings, and by nine o'clock there were few of us left in the _hotel_. Teligny and De Guerchy were in the sick-room, and with them Pare, the surgeon, and the Admiral's chaplain, Pastor Merlin; Carnaton and La Bonne dozed in the ante-chamber, while Yolet was posting the five Switzers who formed part of Navarre's bodyguard.

"It seems as if we shall have a quiet night, Yolet," I remarked.

"The danger has blown over," he answered. "Charles was frightened into believing we intended to murder him, but the King of Navarre has opened his eyes. The real plotters will have an unwelcome surprise in a day or two. I heard De Guerchy telling the Admiral."

"Oh," said I, quite relieved by this information, "if the king keeps firm, we have nothing to fear."

"Trusting to the king," remarked my comrade, who always spoke of Charles as a puppet in the hands of his mother and brother, "is trusting to a broken reed. For my part I hope the instant our chief is strong enough to travel he will hasten to Roch.e.l.le. I have more faith in a keen blade than in a king's promise," and from Yolet's face one would have judged he was of the same opinion.

About a quarter before midnight he came with us to open the front gate, and to fasten it after our departure. We had told him something of our errand, and he advised us to go to work very warily, saying, "Do not forget that a dog isn't dead because he has ceased barking!"

We slipped into the street and he fastened the gate quietly. It was fairly dark now, and being closely m.u.f.fled in our mantles there was little chance of our being recognized. Cossein's soldiers were apparently asleep; no lights gleamed anywhere; the Rue des Fosses de St.

Germain was empty.

On approaching nearer the Louvre, however, we observed a body of citizens, armed, and marching with some sort of military discipline. We had barely time to conceal ourselves in a doorway before they came by, so close to us that we could almost count their numbers.

"What does that mean?" asked my comrade when at last we ventured out again. "Where are those fellows going? Edmond, I don't like the look of that; it is suspicious."

"On the contrary, it has helped to remove my suspicion," I answered.

"They are under the provost's orders, and he would not dare to muster them except by the king's instructions."

"From which you think----?"

"That Charles is taking measures in our favour on his own account."

"I hope you will prove a true prophet, though I do not feel very sanguine."

The delay caused us to be a trifle late in keeping our appointment, and when we reached the place of meeting no one was to be seen. For half an hour we walked softly to and fro, keeping in the shadow of the wall, watching keenly, and listening for the sound of a footstep.

It was strange that L'Estang should not be there, and I had a vague, uneasy feeling that it was impossible to banish. Felix, too, became fidgety, and at last said in a whisper, "Edmond, let us return; there is something wrong, I am sure of it!"

"Nonsense," I replied, more to keep up my own spirits than for any other reason; "a hundred things may have kept the man from coming. Besides, what is there to fear?"

"I don't know," he admitted, "but I am certain there is mischief afoot.

It may be the darkness and the silence. Listen!" and he caught me by the arm, "do you hear that? Horses, Edmond, and hors.e.m.e.n! Where are they?"

Listening intently I recognized the sounds. Soldiers were gathering inside the grounds. Where could they be going at this time? Once more I slipped back to the little gate, calling softly "D'Angely!" but there was no response. The adventurer for once had failed me. I returned to my comrade, who was now trembling with excitement.

"There is some terrible business on hand!" said he. "What can it mean?"

"Let us wait here; we may discover the secret."