quit Paris; whereat he
shook his head.

"It will not do," he said; "the gates are watched. So far you have
beaten them, but there you will fail, and here detection is certain."

"I must risk something."

"As little as possible." And after a pause: "What do you say to the
Louvre?"

"The Louvre!--the lion's den!"

"The safest place on earth. See here, Monsieur Broussel. I owe you my
life; give me a chance to make some return. Can you trust me enough to
put yourself in my hands? I will not fail you. It is not Le Brusquet
the King's jester, but Nicholas d'Ayen, Sieur de Besme, of the Quercy,
who pledges his word."

We stared each other in the face, and my good genius came to my elbow.

"Yes," I said.

In short, it was arranged that I should meet him towards sunset at the
entrance to the tennis court, east of the Louvre. There was some
difficulty about Pierrebon and the horses; but in this Le Brusquet
again came to my aid, and it was settled that Pierrebon should find
shelter in a house in the Rue Tire Boudin, which belonged to Monsieur
Blaise de Lorgnac, Seigneur of Malezieux, and lieutenant of the Queen's
guard, the same being a tried and true friend of my new-found
benefactor.

Pierrebon at this moment returning, I hailed him. He had been
unsuccessful in his attempt to obtain horses such as we needed, but
hoped to do so the next day; and shortly after Le Brusquet departed,
taking Pierrebon with him, and my valise.

"Fast bind, safe find," he said as he pointed at Pierrebon; and then,
calling to his ape, went off.

Towards the appointed time I found myself close to the parvis of St.
Germain l'Auxerrois. For some reason or other there was a greater
crowd than usual, and I was compelled to halt for a moment. Just at
this moment a body of eight or ten horsemen came trotting rapidly
towards the Chatelet. Their leader all but rode over a child, and
would certainly have done so had I not made a long arm and pushed it
aside. There was no doubt of it, the leading horseman was my brother
Simon, the Vidame d'Orrain, and I thanked my good star that, owing to
the dusk, the bustle, and the pace he was going at, he did not
recognise me. Something, however, struck him, for twice he turned back
to look. I did not wait for a third glance, and, mixing with the
crowd, was lost to view.

At the gate of the tennis court I met Le Brusquet, and, passing through
a wicket, we entered the precincts of the Louvre.