of the staircase that Coconnas hurled this final apostrophe to the
fugitive whom he gave up following with his feet, but whom he still
followed with his eyes through the screw of the stairway, and who had
reached Marguerite's chamber. Suddenly a woman came out of this room and
took the arm of the man Coconnas was following.

"Oh! oh!" said Coconnas, "that looked very much like Queen Marguerite.
He was expected. In that case it is different. I understand why he did
not answer me."

Crouching down by the banister he looked through the opening of the
stairway. Then after a few words in a low voice he saw the red cloak
follow the queen to her apartments.

"Good! good!" said Coconnas, "that is it. I was not mistaken. There are
moments when the presence of our best friend is necessary to us, and
dear La Mole has one of those moments."

And Coconnas ascending the stairs softly sat down on a velvet bench
which ornamented the landing place, and said to himself:

"Very well, instead of joining him I will wait--yes; but," he added, "I
think as he is with the Queen of Navarre I may have to wait long--it is
cold, by Heaven! Well! well! I can wait just as well in my room. He will
have to come there sometime."

Scarcely had he finished speaking, and started to carry out his
resolution, when a quick light step sounded above him, accompanied by a
snatch of song so familiar that Coconnas at once turned his head in the
direction of the step and the song. It was La Mole descending from the
upper story, where his room was. When he perceived Coconnas, he began to
descend the stairs four steps at a time, and this done he threw himself
into his arms.

"Oh, Heavens! is it you?" said Coconnas. "How the devil did you get
out?"

"By the Rue Cloche Percee, by Heavens!"

"No, I do not mean that house."

"What then?"

"The queen's apartment."

"The queen's apartment?"

"The Queen of Navarre."

"I have not been there."

"Come now!"

"My dear Annibal," said La Mole, "you are out of your head. I have come
from my room where I have been waiting for you for two hours."

"You have come from your room?"

"Yes."

"Was it not you I followed from the Place du Louvre?"

"When?"

"Just now."

"No."

"It was not you who disappeared under the gate ten minutes ago?"

"No."

"It was not you who just ascended the stairs as if you were pursued by a
legion of devils?"

"No."

"By Heaven!" cried Coconnas, "the wine of the _Belle