ything has gone well. The King has left for
Fontainebleau to hunt the boar. He started this afternoon; Madame
Diane is with him. The royal children are at St. Germain-en-Laye, and
but for its guards the Louvre is deserted; there is no one here but the
Queen. Come, then!"

With a whistle to the ape, which hopped along in front of us, he opened
the door and passed out, I following on his heels. Outside, we found
ourselves in a maze of twisting passages, along which my guide went
with quick, light steps. Finally, we turned into an arched doorway,
and, ascending a stair, stood on the roof of one of the galleries
connecting the wings of the Louvre with the great keep.

The twilight was dead, but the moon was rising in a clear, cloudless
sky. By her light we walked along the lonely battlements until we
reached a flight of steps, upon which the shadow of the Philippine fell
darkly. Arrived at the head of the steps we gained an embattled
balcony, giving access, by means of a lancet arch, into the keep.
Through this we passed, and entered a long, low corridor. So low,
indeed, that by raising the baton he carried in his hand Le Brusquet,
though not a tall man, could easily reach the joints of the groined
roof. Here we stood for a space, where a banner of moonlight lay on
the floor--the ape a dark spot in its whiteness. All was silent as the
grave. Once there was a startling rush of wings as a homing-pigeon
flew past the open arch and hissed off into the night. All was in
semi-gloom, except where the moon lit the floor at our feet, and where,
at intervals, a dim yellow halo marked the spot where a feeble lamp was
burning in a niche set far back in the huge walls.

"And this leads to the Queen's apartment," whispered Le Brusquet, with
a shrug of his shoulders, as he led the way along the gallery, which
curved with the shape of the keep. On rounding the curve it came to an
abrupt ending. Here a lamp swung by a chain from the roof, and by its
light we dimly saw before us a large door, firmly closed, and seeming
to bar all further progress. Near the door a man was seated in an
alcove in the wall, his knees almost up to his chin, his drawn sword in
his hand. He swung round on to his feet as we came up. It was De
Lorgnac.

"The Queen awaits you," he said, without further greeting, and tapped
twice at the door. It was opened at once, and both Le Brusquet and
myself were about to step in when De Lorgnac laid his han