and. And now the guards closed around their
prisoners, the living and the dead, and they passed from my sight.

In a moment the tension was relaxed, and a hundred voices were raised at
once, discussing the sentence, the news of which had already gone forth;
and outside the multitude began to hoot and groan and cheer.

A man seized me by the cloak. "A just sentence, was it not, monsieur?"
he asked. And then went on: "A pity the old fox died; but it will be a
good expiation, almost as good as that of Clinet and De Luns--_cujus
regio, ejus religio_," he babbled on, airing his Latin; but I drove the
fool from me with a curse, and wonder to this day if he ever knew how
near he was to death.

La Valentinois had arisen, and, followed by De Mouchy and half a dozen
others, was making her way to the exit, all parting before her as though
she were the Queen. Now was my chance. Simon had escaped me for to-day;
but De Mouchy--he at least was within my reach--and with my hand to my
poniard I pressed down the steps of the gallery, but near the door was
hemmed in by the crowd. Try as I would it was impossible to get through,
and a barrier was put up, which made matters hopeless. There as I stood
in impotent rage I saw over the heads of the crowd La Valentinois
entering her coach. She was followed by De Mouchy. The guards closed
around. There was a cheer, and they were gone. It was then that a cold
hand touched my wrist, and a voice whispered in my ear:

"There are two days yet; do nothing rash!"

I turned swiftly, and saw Le Brusquet at my elbow, and behind him the
tall figure of De Lorgnac; unknown to me he had followed me here.

"Come with us!" he said; and I made no answer, but did as I was bidden,
and placing me between them we went back together to the Louvre. Once in
Le Brusquet's apartments the reaction set in, and flinging myself in a
chair I covered my face with my hands--for the first time in my life I
had broken down utterly.

After a while I somewhat recovered myself. Lorgnac was standing with his
back to me, looking out of the window, and Le Brusquet was by my side, a
glass of cordial in his hand.

"Drink this," he said. "Remember there are two days yet; and God's arm
is long."

Mechanically I drank, and as I held the glass in my hand Le Brusquet
removed his cloak. In doing this something dropped, and stooping he
picked it up. It was a packet of letters, tied with a red ribbon. With
a glance of c