ed to the conclusion that you had come to Rochelle as a spy. You
told me your story, and I believed it; but you have doubtless many
enemies who will laugh at it. They will say----"

"Nothing, monsieur; I shall go to the block without words. Renaud
L'Estang will find no mercy in Rochelle, and asks none."

There was no hint of bravado in his speech; it was but the expression of
a man of intrepid courage and iron will.

"Once more listen," I said. "Had you come to Rochelle as a spy I should
have handed you over to our troops without hesitation; but I am
regarding you, not as the servant of Anjou but as a tender and loving
son. I cannot have on my hands the blood of a man who has shown such
affection for his mother. I propose to accompany you to the gate, and
there to set you at liberty."

He stood like one suddenly stricken dumb. His limbs trembled, the
muscles of his face twitched convulsively; he gazed at me with unseeing
eyes.

"Monsieur," he said after a time, "I do not comprehend. Is it that you
give me, Renaud L'Estang, my life? No, I must have mistaken your words."

"You have made no mistake. As far as I am concerned you are free. I ask
but one thing, Renaud L'Estang. Some day you may be able to show mercy
to one of your foes. Should such a time arrive, remember that once mercy
was not withheld from you."

He did not speak, but motioned me with his hand to follow him. We
entered the chamber of death, and he knelt reverently by the bedside.
Then, in low, passionate tones, calling on the dead woman by name, he
made a solemn vow that, should it ever be in his power, he would repay
the debt he owed me, even at the sacrifice of life and all he held most
dear.

"I must fight for my side," he said, "but no Huguenot shall ever seek
quarter from me in vain."

He buckled on his sword, and we went out together in the dull grey
morning. Few persons were abroad, and none presumed to question one of
the Admiral's household. My companion fetched his horse from the inn,
and I walked with him until we were well beyond the walls of the town.

Then I came to a halt, saying: "Here we part; now you must depend on
yourself for safety."

He doffed his plumed hat. "Monsieur," he said, "the friends of Renaud
L'Estang would laugh on being told he was at a loss for words; yet it is
true. I cannot express my gratitude; I can but pray that I may have an
opportunity of proving it. Good-bye!"

"Good-bye!" I replied, and when he had