sieur, but they do."

"And what did he say?" cried the cavalier impatiently. "As you seem so
well informed, what were his words?"

"I cannot certify that they were his words," replied Briquet, who seemed
to take a pleasure in teazing the cavalier.

"Well, then, those they attribute to him."

"They assert that he has confessed that he conspired for M. de Guise."

"Against the king, of course?"

"No; against the Duc d'Anjou."

"If he confessed that--"

"Well?"

"Well, he is a poltroon!" said the cavalier, frowning.

"Ah! monsieur, the boot and the thumb-screw make a man confess many
things."

"Alas! that is true, monsieur."

"Bah!" interrupted the Gascon, "the boot and the thumb-screw, nonsense:
if Salcede confessed that, he was a knave, and his patron another."

"You speak loudly, monsieur," said the cavalier.

"I speak as I please; so much the worse for those who dislike it."

"More calmly," said a voice at once soft and imperative, of which
Briquet vainly sought the owner.

The cavalier seemed to make an effort over himself, and then said
quietly to the Gascon, "Do you know him of whom you speak?"

"Salcede?"--"Yes."

"Not in the least."

"And the Duc de Guise?"

"Still less."

"Well, then, Salcede is a brave man."

"So much the better: he will die bravely."

"And know that, when the Duc de Guise wishes to conspire, he conspires
for himself."

"What do I care?"

"What!"

"Mayneville! Mayneville!" murmured the same voice.

"Yes, mordieu! what do I care?" continued the Gascon, "I came to Paris
on business, and find the gates closed on account of this
execution--that is all I care for."

At this moment there was a sound of trumpets. The Swiss had cleared the
middle of the road, along which a crier proceeded, dressed in a flowered
tunic, and bearing on his breast a scutcheon on which was embroidered
the arms of Paris. He read from a paper in his hand the following
proclamation:

"This is to make known to our good people of Paris and its environs,
that its gates will be closed for one hour, and that none can enter
during that time; and this by the will of the king and the mayor of
Paris."

The crowd gave vent to their discontent in a long hoot, to which,
however, the crier seemed indifferent. The officer commanded silence,
and when it was obtained, the crier continued:

"All who are the bearers of a sign of recognition, or are summoned by
letter or mandate, are exempt from this ru