eness, 'I
understand you think to kill me to-night? Let me tell you, this house is
watched. If you leave here to meet me with any companion--unless it be
M. d'Agen, whom I can trust, I shall be warned, and be gone before you
reach the rendezvous. And gone, mind you,' he added, with a grim smile,
'to sign your death-warrant.'

He went out with that, closing the door behind him; and we heard his
step go softly down the staircase. I gazed at Simon, and he at me, with
all the astonishment and awe which it was natural we should feel in
presence of so remarkable a coincidence.

For by a marvel the priest had named the same spot and the same time as
the sender of the velvet knot!

'He will go,' Simon said, his face flushed and his voice trembling, 'and
they will go.'

'And in the dark they will not know him,' I muttered. 'He is about my
height. They will take him for me!'

'And kill him!' Simon cried hysterically. 'They will kill him! He goes
to his death, monsieur. It is the finger of God.'

CHAPTER XX. THE KING'S FACE.

It seemed so necessary to bring home the crime to Bruhl should the
priest really perish in the trap laid for me, that I came near to
falling into one of those mistakes to which men of action are prone. For
my first impulse was to follow the priest to the Parvis, closely enough,
if possible, to detect the assassins in the act, and with sufficient
force, if I could muster it, to arrest them. The credit of dissuading
me from this course lies with Simon, who pointed out its dangers in
so convincing a manner that I was brought with little difficulty to
relinquish it.

Instead, acting on his advice, I sent him to M. d'Agen's lodging, to beg
that young gentleman to call upon me before evening. After searching
the lodging and other places in vain, Simon found M. d'Agen in the
tennis-court at the Castle, and, inventing a crafty excuse, brought him
to my lodging a full hour before the time.

My visitor was naturally surprised to find that I had nothing particular
to say to him. I dared not tell him what occupied my thoughts, and
for the rest invention failed me. But his gaiety and those pretty
affectations on which he spent an infinity of pains, for the purpose,
apparently, of hiding the sterling worth of a character deficient
neither in courage nor backbone, were united to much good nature.
Believing at last that I had sent for him in a fit of the vapours,
he devoted himself to amusing me and abusing B