a matter-of-fact
tone, and with a slight salutation. "After you, if you please," and he
signed to him to return.

He was a burly man, grim and truculent in appearance, and his follower
was like him. Tignonville hesitated, then turned and ascended. But as
soon as he had reached the landing where they could pass him, he turned
again.

"I have made a mistake, I think," he said. "I have entered the wrong
house."

"Are you for the house next the Golden Maid, Monsieur?"

"Yes."

"Rue Cinq Diamants, Quarter of the Boucherie?"

"Yes."

"No mistake, then," the stout man replied firmly. "You are early, that
is all. You have arms, I see. Maillard!"--to the person whose voice
Tignonville had heard at the head of the stairs--"A white sleeve, and a
cross for Monsieur's hat, and his name on the register. Come, make a
beginning! Make a beginning, man."

"To be sure, Monsieur. All is ready."

"Then lose no time, I say. Here are others, also early in the good
cause. Gentlemen, welcome! Welcome all who are for the true faith!
Death to the heretics! 'Kill, and no quarter!' is the word to-night!"

"Death to the heretics!" the last comers cried in chorus. "Kill and no
quarter! At what hour, M. le Prevot?"

"At daybreak," the Provost answered importantly. "But have no fear, the
tocsin will sound. The King and our good man M. de Guise have all in
hand. A white sleeve, a white cross, and a sharp knife shall rid Paris
of the vermin! Gentlemen of the quarter, the word of the night is 'Kill,
and no quarter! Death to the Huguenots!'"

"Death! Death to the Huguenots! Kill, and no quarter!" A dozen--the
room was beginning to fill--waved their weapons and echoed the cry.

Tignonville had been fortunate enough to apprehend the position--and the
peril in which he stood--before Maillard advanced to him bearing a white
linen sleeve. In the instant of discovery his heart had stood a moment,
the blood had left his cheeks; but with some faults, he was no coward,
and he managed to hide his emotion. He held out his left arm, and
suffered the beadle to pass the sleeve over it and to secure the white
linen above the elbow. Then at a gesture he gave up his velvet cap, and
saw it decorated with a white cross of the same material.

"Now the register, Monsieur," Maillard continued briskly; and waving him
in the direction of a clerk, who sat at the end of the long table, having
a book and a ink-horn before him, he turned t