and trampled the clear light into dim embers with the heel of his
cavalier's boot.

"To be seen here does not mean much to most of you," he said, with
sudden unexpected fierceness, "but with the city full of the spies of
Guise, it would be death and destruction to me! In a word then--for this
I have come. The King has resolved to bear no longer the insolence of
Guise and his brothers. There is to be an end. It will be a bitter day
and a worse night in Blois. Women are better out of it. I have taken
measures to keep safely mine own wife--though there is no braver lass in
France, as the burghers of Angouleme do know--what I have to ask is, how
many of you gentlemen I can count upon?"

"There is a difference," said the Professor. "I am an advocate for
peace. But then Duke Guise and the Princes of Lorraine will not leave us
in peace. So, against my judgment and conscience, I am with you so far
as fighting goes."

"And I," said the Abbe John eagerly; "but I will have no hand in the
assassination. It smells of Saint Bartholomew!"

"It is going to smell of that," answered D'Epernon coolly; "you are of
Crillon's party, my friend--and truly, I do not wonder. There are
butchers enough about the King to do his killings featly. Of what use
else are swaggerers like D'O, Guast, Ornano, and Lognac? For me, I am
happily supposed to be in my government of Angouleme. I am banished,
disgraced, shamed, all to pleasure the League. But just the same, the
King sends me daily proof of his kindness, under his own hand and seal.
So I, in turn, endeavour to serve him as best I may."

"You can count on me, Duke d'Epernon," said Jean-aux-Choux suddenly,
"aye, if it were to do again the deed of Ehud, which he did in the
summer parlour by the quarries of Gilgal, that day when the sun was hot
in the sky."

"Good," said D'Epernon, "it is a bargain. To-morrow, then, do you seek
out Hamilton, a lieutenant in the Scots Guards, and say to him 'The Man
in the Black Cloak sent me to you'!"

"When--at what hour?"

"At six--seven--as soon as may be, what care I?"

"Aye," said Jean-aux-Choux, "that is good speaking. Is it not written,
'What thou doest, do quickly'?"

"It is indeed so written," said the Professor of Eloquence gravely, "but
not of the Duke of Guise."

"Fear not," said Jean-aux-Choux, taking the reference, "I shall meet him
face to face. There shall be no Judas kiss betwixt me and Henry of
Guise."

"No," murmured the Professor, "th