t would make the Huguenots laugh,
for they owe him a spite since the blessed night of Saint Bartholomew."

And Madame de Nevers, mounting her horse, went joyfully towards the
Louvre, which was the general rendezvous.

It was two o'clock in the afternoon as a file of cavaliers, overflowing
with gold, jewels, and magnificent garments, appeared in the Rue Saint
Denis, entering by the corner of the Cemetery of the Innocents and
stretching itself out in the sunlight between the two rows of gloomy
looking houses like an immense reptile with variegated rings.

CHAPTER XVI.

A DEAD ENEMY'S BODY ALWAYS SMELLS SWEET.

No brilliant company, however, could give any idea of this spectacle.
The rich and elegant silk dresses, bequeathed as a magnificent fashion
by Francois I. to his successors, had not yet been changed into those
formal and sombre vestments which came into fashion under Henry III.; so
that the costume of Charles IX., less rich, but perhaps more elegant
than those of preceding reigns, displayed its perfect harmony. In our
day no similar cortege could have any standard of comparison, for when
we wish magnificence of display we are reduced to mere symmetry and
uniform.

Pages, esquires, gentlemen of low degree, dogs and horses, following on
the flanks and in the rear, formed of the royal cortege an absolute
army. Behind this army came the populace, or rather the populace was
everywhere.

It followed, trooped alongside, and rushed ahead; there were shouts of
_Noel_ and _Haro_, for there were distinguishable in the procession many
Calvinists to hoot at, and the populace harbors resentment.

That morning Charles, in presence of Catharine and the Duc de Guise,
had, as a perfectly natural thing spoken before Henry of Navarre of
going to visit the gibbet of Montfaucon, or, rather, the admiral's
mutilated corpse which had been suspended from it. Henry's first impulse
had been to refuse to take part in this excursion. Catharine supposed he
would. At the first words in which he expressed his repugnance she
exchanged a glance and a smile with the Duc de Guise. Henry detected
them both, understood what they meant, and suddenly recovering his
presence of mind said:

"But why should I not go? I am a Catholic, and am bound to my new
religion."

Then addressing the King:

"Your Majesty may reckon on my company," he said; "and I shall be always
happy to accompany you wheresoever you may go."

And he threw a sweep