g him, and crying that the Huguenots
ought not to live."

We gazed at each other blankly; this certainly did not appear as if
Charles had given him any peaceful commands. Nor was our alarm lessened
when an hour later another spy reported that Anjou and Angouleme were
following Guise's example, and doing their best to rouse the passions of
the people.

"They are telling the citizens," our messenger said, "that a plot to
take the king's life, and to slay Monseigneur has been discovered, and
the citizens are crying for vengeance on the Huguenots."

"Guise and Anjou will see to it that they get their vengeance," I
remarked, for it was no longer possible to doubt that our enemies had
determined on our destruction. We had put our trust in Charles; if he
deserted us it was all over.

"At least," said La Bonne, "if we have to die, we will die like men."

"With our swords in our hands, and not in their scabbards!" exclaimed
Felix, and a fierce growl of approval greeted his words.

As the day wore to a close it became more and more plain that, as my
comrade had declared, we were like hunted animals caught in a trap. We
might sell our lives dearly, but we could not hope to fight successfully
against the royal troops and a city in arms.

Only one chance of escape presented itself. By banding together and
making a determined rush we might force a passage through the streets,
and seek safety in flight; but to do this we must abandon our
illustrious chief, whose weakness prevented him from being moved. I hope
it is needless to add that every Huguenot gentleman in Paris would have
lost his life fifty times over rather than have agreed to such a base
proceeding.

About seven o'clock in the evening many of Navarre's gentlemen left the
house, and some of us accompanied them to the end of the street. La
Bonne having received favourable news from the palace, our alarm, in
consequence, had begun to subside, though we still remained a trifle
anxious.

We were returning in a body to the _hotel_, Felix and I being the last
of the company, when a man slipped a paper into my hand and instantly
disappeared.

"Another warning from your strange friend, I suppose," said Felix.

I opened the paper and read hurriedly: "Bring Monsieur Bellievre with
you shortly after midnight, and meet me at the little gate of the Louvre
where I saw you before. Wrap yourselves up closely, and attract as
little attention as possible. Do not fail to come, as