advantage of the pause to approach him. Henry
received the old man with a kindly look, and bent from his saddle to
hear what he had to say. While they were talking I pressed forward, the
emotion I felt on my own account heightened by my recognition of the man
who rode by the King of Navarre--who was no other than M. de la Noue. No
Huguenot worthy of the name could look on the veteran who had done
and suffered more for the cause than any living man without catching
something of his stern enthusiasm; and the sight, while it shamed
me, who a moment before had been inclined to prefer my safety to the
assistance I owed my country, gave me courage to step to the king's
rein, so that I heard his last words to the men of Arcueil.

'Patience, my friends,' he said kindly. 'The burden is heavy, but the
journey is a short one. The Seine is ours; the circle is complete. In a
week Paris must surrender. The king, my cousin, will enter, and you will
be rid of us. For France's sake one week, my friends.'

The men fell back with low obeisances, charmed by his good-nature, and
Henry, looking up, saw me before him. In the instant his jaw fell. His
brow, suddenly contracting above eyes, which flashed with surprise and
displeasure, altered in a moment the whole aspect of his face; which
grew dark and stern as night. His first impulse was to pass by me; but
seeing that I held my ground, he hesitated, so completely chagrined by
my appearance that he did not know how to act, or in what way to deal
with me. I seized the occasion, and bending my knee with as much respect
as I had ever used to the King of France, begged to bring myself to his
notice, and to crave his protection and favour.

'This is no time to trouble me, sir,' he retorted, eyeing me with an
angry side-glance. 'I do not know you. You are unknown to me, sir. You
must go to M. de Rosny.'

'It would be useless sire,' I answered, in desperate persistence.

'Then I can do nothing for you,' he rejoined peevishly. 'Stand on one
side, sir.'

But I was desperate. I knew that I had risked all on the event, and must
establish my footing before M. de Turenne's return, or run the risk
of certain recognition and vengeance. I cried out, caring nothing who
heard, that I was M. de Marsac, that I had come back to meet whatever my
enemies could allege against me.

'VENTRE SAINT GRIS!' Henry exclaimed, starting in his saddle with
well-feigned surprise. 'Are you that man?'

'I am, sire,' I a