ars which I have set down.

He listened attentively, drumming on the table with his fingers; nor did
he move or speak when I had done, but still continued in the same
attitude of thought. At last: "Grandmaster," he said, touching with his
hand the mark of the wound on his lip, "how long is it since Chastel's
attempt--when I got this?"

"Seven years last Christmas, sire," I answered, after a moment's
thought.

"And Barriere's?"

"That was the year before. Avenius' plot was that year too."

"And the Italian's from Milan, of whom the Capuchin Honorio warned us?"

"That was two years ago, sire."

"And how many more attempts have there been against my person?" he
continued, in a tone of extreme sadness. "Rosny, my friend, they must
succeed at last. No man can fight against his fate. The end is sure,
notwithstanding your fidelity and vigilance, and the love you bear me,
for which I love you, too. But Nicholas? Nicholas? And yet he has been
careless and distraught of late. I have noticed it; and a month back I
refused to give him an appointment, of which he wished to have the
sale."

I did not dare to speak, and for a time Henry too remained silent. At
length he rose with an air of resolution.

"We will clear up this matter within an hour!" he said. "I will send my
people back to the Louvre, and do you, Grandmaster, order half a dozen
Swiss to be ready to conduct us to this woman's house. When we have
heard her we shall know what to do."

I tried my utmost to dissuade him, pleading that his presence could not
be necessary, and might prove a hindrance; besides exposing his person
to a certain amount of risk. But he would not listen. When I saw,
therefore, that his mind was made up, and that as his spirits rose he
was inclined to welcome this expedition as a relief from the _ennui_
which at times troubled him, I reluctantly withdrew my opposition and
gave the necessary orders. The King dismissed his suite with a few
words, and in a short space we were on our way, under cover of darkness,
to the secretary's house.

He lived at this time in a court off the Rue St. Jacques, not far from
the church of that name; and the house being remote from the eyes and
observation of the street, seemed not unfit for secret and desperate
uses. Although we noted lights shining behind several of the barred
windows, the wintry night, the darkness of the court, and perhaps the
errand on which we came, imparted so gloomy an aspect to the