swim again as I tried to reason the matter out. Was
it Henri after all? It was possible I had been mistaken, and in any
case the note must be delivered, so, crossing the road, I knocked
boldly at the door.

After some delay the window above my head was opened, and a man
glancing out asked my business.

"To see your master, and that sharply," I replied.

Saying he would admit me immediately, the fellow disappeared, and
presently I heard him stumbling along the passage. He spent a long
time undoing the bolts and bars, but at last the door was opened wide.

"Enter, monsieur," said the fellow, "you will be welcome, though my
master is not dressed to receive visitors. He has passed the night in
reading the heavens, and is fatigued."

"That is strange! I thought he already had callers this morning."

Gazing at me in profound astonishment, the man exclaimed, "Visitors
here, monsieur? Impossible! You are the first to call."

"I must have been mistaken, then," said I, with assumed calmness, but
really more perplexed than ever. Unless my eyes had deceived me, the
man was not speaking truly--but why? Surely his master was at liberty
to receive anyone who chose to visit him!

Then another idea struck me. If Henri was one of the two men who had
entered the house, were we likely to meet? and if so, what would
happen? I had done his cause much harm, and had besides made him a
laughing-stock for the wits of Paris. Martin was no fighting man, and
the odds against me would be at least two to one. It seemed as if I
had stumbled again by accident into a hornet's nest.

While I brooded over these things the man fumbled with the door, taking
so long to replace the bars that I called on him sharply to make more
haste.

"I am ready, monsieur; this way," and he led me along the well-known
passage, up the crazy staircase, and so to the corridor, where on my
recent visit a soldier had kept guard.

Opening the door of the room in which I had first met Mazarin, the man
requested me to step inside and wait a moment or two whilst his master
dressed. The apartment appeared empty, but I kept my hand on my sword,
and was careful to peer behind the curtain. Rather, perhaps, to my
surprise no one was there; so I returned to the middle of the room and
stood by the table. In truth I felt very uneasy, and wished myself
safely in the street.

Five anxious minutes passed before the astrologer entered. He was
attired in dressing