m a musketoon (then called a petronel) with the muzzle turned from
them. In the richness of their costume they resembled the joyous
characters of the "Decameron;" on closer view, by the threatening aspect
of their weapons, they seemed like those forest robbers whom a hundred
years later Salvator Rosa painted from nature in his landscapes. One of
them was leaning on his hand and on one knee, listening as attentively
as the hare or deer we mentioned above.

"It seems to me," said this one, "that the hunt was very near us just
now. I heard the cries of the hunters cheering the falcon."

"And now," said the other, who seemed to await events with much more
philosophy than his companion, "now I hear nothing more; they must have
gone away. I told you this was a poor place from which to see anything.
We cannot be seen, it is true; but we cannot see, either."

"The devil! my dear Annibal," said the first speaker, "we had to put our
horses somewhere, as well as the mules, which, by the way, are so
heavily laden that I do not see how they can follow us. Now I know that
these old beeches and oaks are perfectly suited to this difficult task.
I should venture to say that far from blaming Monsieur de Mouy as you
are doing, I recognize in every detail of the enterprise he is directing
the common sense of a true conspirator."

"Good!" said the second gentleman, whom no doubt our reader has already
recognized as Coconnas; "good! that is the word! I expected it! I relied
on you for it! So we are conspiring?"

"We are not conspiring; we are serving the king and the queen."

"Who are conspiring and which amounts to the same for us."

"Coconnas, I have told you," said La Mole, "that I do not in the least
force you to follow me in this affair. I have undertaken it only because
of a particular sentiment, which you can neither feel nor share."

"Well, by Heaven! Who said that you were forcing me? In the first place,
I know of no one who could compel Coconnas, to do what he did not wish
to do; but do you suppose that I would let you go without following you,
especially when I see that you are going to the devil?"

"Annibal! Annibal!" said La Mole, "I think that I see her white palfrey
in the distance. Oh! it is strange how my heart throbs at the mere
thought of her coming!"

"Yes, it is strange," said Coconnas, yawning; "my heart does not throb
in the least."

"It is not she," said La Mole. "What can have happened? They were to be
he