We entered Paris a little before the gate was closed for the night.  It was still very light, and the streets were filled with people, very few of whom, however, took much notice of us.  The capital was utterly strange to me, and I knew nothing of Coligny’s residence, except that it was situated in the Rue de l’Arbre Sec.  Overtaking an officer of the king’s guards I asked to be directed to that street, and he very courteously undertook to conduct me part of the way.

“You are a stranger in Paris?” said he, looking critically at me and my servant.

“Yes, I have but now arrived from the south, to meet a friend who lives in the Rue de l’Arbre Sec.”

“I should fancy,” exclaimed the officer, with a humorous twinkle, “that your friend’s residence is not far from the Hotel Coligny!  Have you borne arms, monsieur?”

“I fought at Arnay-le-Duc,” I replied, feeling sure that my questioner had already set me down in his own mind as a Huguenot.

“I was there, too,” he said, “but I’ll wager we were not on the same side.  However, those days are gone, and we may yet have a chance of fighting under the same flag!” to which I replied that nothing would give the members of our party more pleasure.

Having conducted me to the corner of the street and pointed out Coligny’s house he took his leave, with a cheery hope that I should find my stay in town pleasant.

The Admiral was absent, but the house was occupied by several of his gentlemen, who gave me a hearty welcome.  Felix was somewhere in the town on business, one said, not unconnected with my family, at which the others laughed.

He came in about an hour later, when I learned he had been spending the evening with the Countess Guichy, at whose house my sister was staying.

“The countess, my dear Edmond,” said he, “is a relative of mine.  She does not belong to the Religion, but she is a worthy soul, and when Queen Joan died and everything was in confusion, I persuaded your sister to go to her until she could consult you as to her future.”

“That was like your kind heart, Felix; you have ever been a good friend to both of us.  I had not thought how awkwardly Jeanne would be placed by the queen’s death.”

“There is no need to thank me,” he replied, “I have done the countess a favour.  Your sister has won her heart already, though to be sure there is no miracle in that.  They called her the Queen of Hearts at Blois.  I must take you to see her in the morning.  Did Jacques come with you?”

“Yes, he is making himself at home with some of his old acquaintances; but where is the Admiral?”

“At Fontainebleau with the king.  Everything is settled; Henry comes to Paris in a week or two, and there is to be a grand wedding.  Our opponents are furious, but helpless.  There is only one thing I dread.”

“What is that?” I asked, rather taken aback by the sudden serious look on his face.