kely that news of the priest's murder should
affect so many people and to such a degree, and I asked M. d'Agen what
it meant.

'There is a rumour abroad,' he answered, without slackening speed, 'that
the king intends to move south to Tours at once.'

I muttered my surprise and satisfaction. 'He will come to terms with the
Huguenots then?' I said.

'It looks like it,' M. d'Agen rejoined. 'Retz's party are in an
ill-humour on that account, and will wreak it on you if they get a
chance. On guard!' he added abruptly. 'Here are two of them!'

As he spoke we emerged from the crowd, and I saw, half a dozen paces
in front; of us, and coming to meet us, a couple of Court gallants,
attended by as many servants. They espied us at the same moment, and
came across the street, which was tolerably wide at that part, with the
evident intention of stopping us. Simultaneously, however, we crossed to
take their side, and so met them face to face in the middle of the way.

'M. d'Agen,' the foremost exclaimed, speaking in a haughty tone, and
with a dark side glance at me, 'I am sorry to see you in such company!
Doubtless you are not aware that this gentleman is the subject of an
order which has even now been issued to the Provost-Marshal.'

'And if so, sir? What of that?' my companion lisped in his silkiest
tone.

'What of that?' the other cried, frowning, and pushing slightly forward.

'Precisely,' M. d'Agen repeated, laying his hand on his hilt and
declining to give back. 'I am not aware that his Majesty has appointed
you Provost-Marshal, or that you have any warrant, M. Villequier,
empowering you to stop gentlemen in the public streets.'

M. Villequier reddened with anger. 'You are young, M. d'Agen,' he said,
his voice quivering, 'or I would make you pay dearly for that!'

'My friend is not young,' M. d'Agen retorted, bowing. 'He is a gentleman
of birth, M. Villequier; by repute, as I learned yesterday, one of the
best swordsmen in France, and no Gascon. If you feel inclined to arrest
him, do so, I pray. And I will have the honour of engaging your son.'

As we had all by this time our hands on our swords, there needed but a
blow to bring about one of those street brawls which were more common
then than now. A number of market-people, drawn to the spot by our
raised voices, had gathered round, and were waiting eagerly to see what
would happen. But Villeqier, as my companion perhaps knew, was a Gascon
in heart as well as by bir