CHAPTER IV

THE QUEEN'S MIRACLE

Where the eastern wing of the Louvre rose high above the Rue St. Thomas
lay the apartments of Le Brusquet, at the end of a labyrinth of
passages and galleries. Having brought me here my friend left me, with
a warning not to stir forth until his return--a piece of advice I was
quite prepared to follow. Once alone I stepped out into a small,
overhanging balcony, that clung like a beehive to the leprous grey of
the wall, and, sitting well under cover of the battlements, looked
around. Far below me was a walled courtyard, in which an archer of M.
de Lorges' guard paced steadily backwards and forwards. Beyond this
lay the narrow Rue St. Thomas du Louvre, its many-storeyed houses
crowding one above the other, as if struggling for light and air. Here
were the spires of St. Thomas du Louvre, the church raised to the
martyr of Canterbury, and St. Nicaise. There lay the Quinze Vingts.
To the right stood the Campanile of St. Germain l'Auxerrois, all
empurpled in the afterglow of the sunset. Still farther, where the
mouth of the street opened out, was a glimpse of the Seine; and with a
turn of my head I could see, huge and vast, the enormous keep of the
Louvre, built by Philip Augustus, and evilly known as the Philippine.
But although my eyes, straining through the twilight, rested on these
and more, my thoughts were far away. At a puff my pyramid of cards,
the little life I had built up for myself, had come down, and all my
labour and toil were in vain.

I am not of those who give way to despair; but the blue devils attack
the best hearted at times, and for once I felt the hopelessness of my
position, and began to think it useless to struggle further. Perhaps,
after all, it would be better to accept defeat and surrender myself.
Better that than being hunted like a hare, as I was. And then my
thoughts were cut short. Something soft and furry sprang into my lap.
It was Pompon, Le Brusquet's ape, and he looked into my face with soft,
melancholy eyes.

"Poor little beast!"--and I stroked him. "You at least build no
pyramids of cards."

"_Tudieu_!" said a voice, "that is true, but for pulling them down he
has no equal." And Le Brusquet appeared at the window, which opened
out upon the balcony.

I rose and came in. Le Brusquet stepped back and seated himself on a
table, and then for the first time I noticed a third person in the
room--a tall, soldierly man, with the collar of