his own white scarf round his neck, and addressing him as “Marshal.”  “Render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar’s,” said Brissac, as he called upon the provost of tradesmen to present to the king the keys of the city.  “Yes,” said L’Huillier, “render them, not sell them.”  The king went forward with his train, going along Rue St. Honore to the market of the Innocents and the bridge of Notre-Dame; the crowd increased at every step.  “Let them come near,” said Henry; “they hunger to see a king.”  At every step, too, at sight of the smallest incident, the character of Henry, his natural thoughtful and lovable kindliness, shone forth.  He asked if his entry had met with resistance anywhere; and he was told that about fifty lanzknechts had been killed at the quay of L’Ecole.  “I would willingly give fifty thousand crowns,” said he, “to be able to say that I took Paris without costing the life of one single man.”  As he marched along the Rue St. Honore, he saw a soldier taking some bread by force from a baker’s; he rushed at him, and would have struck him with his sword.  As he passed in front of the Innocents, he saw at a window a man who was looking at him, and pointedly keeping his hat on; the man perceived that the king’ observed him, and withdrew, shutting down the window.  Henry said, “Let nobody enter this house to vex or molest any one in it.”  He arrived in front of Notre-Dame, followed by five or six hundred men-at-arms, who trailed their pikes “in token of a victory that was voluntary on the people’s part,” it was said.  There was no uproar, or any hostile movement, save on the left bank of the Seine, in the University quarter, where the Sixteen attempted to assemble their partisans round the gate of St. Jacques; but they were promptly dispersed by the people as well as by the royal troops.  On leaving Notre-Dame, Henry repaired to the Louvre, where he installed royalty once more.  At ten o’clock he was master of the whole city; the districts of St. Martin, of the Temple, and St. Anthony alone remained still in the power of three thousand Spanish soldiers under the orders of their leaders, the Duke of Feria and Don Diego d’Ibarra.  Nothing would have been easier for Henry than to have had them driven out by his own troops and the people of Paris, who wanted to finish the day’s work by exterminating the foreigners; but he was too judicious and too far-sighted to embitter the general animosity by pushing his victory beyond what was necessary.  He sent word to the Spaniards that they must not move from their quarters and must leave Paris during the day, at the same time promising not to bear arms any more against him, in France.  They eagerly accepted these conditions.  At three o’clock in the afternoon, ambassador, officers, and soldiers all evacuated Paris, and set out for the Low Countries.  The king, posted at a window over the gate of St. Denis, witnessed their departure.  They, as they passed, saluted him respectfully; and he returned their salute, saying, “Go, gentlemen, and commend me to your master; but return no more.”