d of M. de Mayenne's
cousin. What mocking devil had driven Etienne de Mar, out of a whole
France full of lovely women, to fix his unturnable desire on this
Ligueuse of Mayenne's own brood? Had his father's friends no daughters,
that he must seek a mistress from the black duke's household? Were there
no families of clean hands and honest speech, that he must ally himself
with the treacherous blood of Lorraine?

I had seen a sample of the League's work to-day, and I liked it not. If
Mayenne were, as Yeux-gris surmised, Lucas's backer, I marvelled that my
master cared to enter his house; I marvelled that he cared to send his
servant there. Yet I went none the less readily for that; I was here to
do his bidding. Nor was I greatly alarmed for my own skin; I thought
myself too small to be worth my Lord Mayenne's powder. And I had, I do
confess, a lively curiosity to behold the interior of the greatest house
in Paris, the very core and centre of the League. Belike if it had not
been for terror of this young demoiselle I had stepped along cheerfully
enough.

Though the hour was late, many people still loitered in the streets,
the clear summer night, and all of them were talking politics. As Jean
and I passed at a rapid pace the groups under the wine-shop lanterns, we
caught always the names of Mayenne and Navarre. Everywhere they asked
the same two questions: Was it true that Henry was coming into the
Church? And if so, what would Mayenne do next? I perceived that old
Maitre Jacques of the Amour de Dieu knew what he was talking about: the
people of Paris were sick to death of the Leagues and their intriguery,
galled to desperation under the yoke of the Sixteen.

Mayenne's fine new hotel in the Rue St. Antoine was lighted as for a
fete. From its open windows came sounds of gay laughter and rattling
dice. You might have thought them keeping carnival in the midst of a
happy and loyal city. If the Lieutenant-General found anything to vex
him in the present situation, he did not let the commonalty know it.

The Duke of Mayenne's house, like my duke's, was guarded by men-at-arms;
but his grilles were thrown back while his soldiers lounged on the stone
benches in the archway. Some of them were talking to a little knot of
street idlers who had gathered about the entrance, while others, with
the aid of a torch and a greasy pack of cards, were playing lansquenet.

I knew no way to do but to ask openly for Mlle. de Montluc, declaring