re would be much danger of a single combat. The Huguenot is very
handsome, but nothing else--a dove, and not an eagle; he may coo, but he
will not bite. After all," added she, with a slight elevation of her
shoulders, "we perhaps take him for a Huguenot, whilst he is only a
Brahmin, and his religion may forbid his shedding blood. But see there,
duchess--there is one of your gentlemen, who will assuredly be ridden
over."

"Ah! it is my hero," cried the duchess; "look, look!"

It was Coconnas, who had left his place in the procession in order to get
nearer to the Duchess of Nevers; but, at the very moment that he was
crossing the sort of boulevard separating the street of St Denis from the
faubourg of the same name, a cavalier belonging to the suite of the Duke
of Alencon, who had just come up, was run away with by his horse; and,
being unable immediately to check the animal, came full tilt against
Coconnas. The Piedmontese reeled in his saddle, and his hat fell off. He
caught it in his hand, and turned furiously upon the person by whom he had
been so rudely, although accidentally, assailed.

"Good heavens!" said Margaret, in a whisper to her friend, "it is Monsieur
de la Mole!"

"That pale, handsome young man?" cried the duchess.

"Yes; he who so nearly upset your Piedmontese."

"Oh!" exclaimed the duchess, "something terrible will happen! They
recognise each other."

They had done so. Coconnas dropped the bridle of his horse in surprise at
meeting with his former acquaintance, whom he fully believed he had
killed, or at any rate disabled for a long time to come. As to La Mole,
when he recognised Coconnas, a flush of anger overspread his pallid
countenance. For a few seconds, the two men remained gazing at each other
with looks which made Margaret and the duchess tremble. Then La Mole,
glancing around him, and understanding, doubtless, that the place was not
a fit one for an explanation, spurred his horse, and rejoined the Duke of
Alencon. Coconnas remained for a moment stationary, twisting his mustache
till he brought the corner of it nearly into his eye, and then moved
onwards.

"Ha!" exclaimed Margaret, with mingled scorn and vexation; "I was not
mistaken then. Oh, this time it is too bad!" And she bit her lips in
anger.

"He is very handsome," said the duchess, in a tone of commiseration.

Just at this moment the Duke of Alencon took his place behind the king and
the queen-mother; so that his gentlemen, i