es of his left arm.

With his maimed and bleeding hand he pointed to the window whence the
shot had been fired, bidding his gentlemen to force a way into the house
and take the assassin. But whilst they were breaking in at the front,
Maurevert was making his escape by the back, where a horse waited for
him, and, though pursued, he was never overtaken.

News of the event was instantly borne to the King. It found him at
tennis with the Duke of Guise and the Admiral's son-in-law, Teligny.

"In this assassin's work, Sire," said the blunt gentleman whom Coligny
had sent, "the Admiral desires you to see the proof of the worth of the
agreement between himself and Monsieur de Guise that followed upon the
treaty of peace of Saint-Germain."

The Duke of Guise drew himself stiffly up, but said no word. The King,
livid with rage, looked at him balefully a moment, then to vent some of
his fury he smashed his racket against the wall.

"God's Blood!" he cried, mouthing horribly. "Am I then never to have
rest?" He flung away the broken remnants of his racket, and went out
cursing. Questioning the messenger further, he learnt that the shot had
been fired from the house of Vilaine, a sometime tutor to the Duke of
Guise, and that the horse upon which the assassin had fled had been held
for him by a groom in the Guise livery.

Meanwhile the Duke and Monsieur de Teligny had gone their ways with
no word spoken between them--Guise to shut himself up in his hotel and
assemble his friends, Teligny to repair at once to his father-in-law.

At two o'clock in the afternoon, in response to an urgent request
from the Admiral, the King went to visit him, accompanied by the
Queen-Mother, by his brothers Anjou and Alencon, and a number of
officers and courtiers. The royal party saw nothing of the excitement
which had been prevailing in the city ever since the morning's event,
an excitement which subsided at their approach. The King was gloomy,
resentful, and silent, having so far refused to discuss the matter with
any one, denying audience even to his mother. Catherine and Anjou were
vexed by the miscarriage of the affair, anxious and no less silent than
the King.

They found the Admiral awaiting them, calm and composed. The famous
Ambroise Pare had amputated the two broken fingers, and had dealt with
the wound in the arm. But although Coligny might be considered to have
escaped lightly, and not to be in any danger, a rumour was abroad that
the