Yet for those who enjoy idle shows it was a pretty spectacle.  Charles, Henry, and Conde, with some idea perhaps of showing their affection for each other, were all dressed alike, in pale yellow satin, embroidered with silver, and adorned with pearls and precious stones.  Anjou, who was even more magnificently attired, had a set of thirty-two pearls in his toque, while the noble dames were gorgeous in rich brocades, and velvets interwoven with gold and silver.

“If the people had their way,” whispered Felix, as the grand cavalcade swept by, “Henry would be going to his funeral instead of to his marriage, and there would be few of us left to mourn him.”

From the Bishop’s palace to the pavilion stretched a raised covered platform, and presently there was a slight craning of necks, and the citizens showed some faint interest, as the head of the bridal procession appeared in sight.

First came the archbishops and bishops in their copes of cloth of gold; then the cardinals in their scarlet robes, and the Knights of St. Michael, their breasts glittering with orders; but not a cheer was raised until young Henry of Guise appeared, when it was easy to tell who was the favourite of the Parisians.

I regarded him with much interest.  He was only twenty-two years old; tall and handsome, with a lissom figure and an air of easy grace that became him well.  His eyes were keen and bright; he wore a light beard, and a profusion of curly hair.  Altogether, he looked a very dashing and accomplished nobleman.

“There she is!” cried Felix suddenly; “do you see her?  Could any one look more lovely?”

“She is certainly magnificent.”

“Bah!” he interrupted in disgust, “you are looking at Margaret.  ’Tis Jeanne I am speaking of—­your sister.  Edmond, you are more blind than a mole!”

There really was some excuse for his extravagant praise, for even amongst that galaxy of beauty Jeanne shone with a loveliness all her own, and Felix was not the only one of my comrades to declare that she was the most beautiful of all that glittering throng.

But the centre of attraction was Margaret herself, still only a girl of twenty, with a beautifully clear complexion and bright black eyes full of fire and spirit.  She was truly a royal bride, gracious, dignified, queenly Magnificent brilliants sparkled in her glossy hair; her stomacher was set with lustrous pearls; her dress was of cloth of gold, and gold lace fringed her dainty handkerchief and gloves.

“A magnificent creature to look at!” grunted the man next to me, “but I would prefer my wife to be a trifle more womanly.”

At length they had all passed into the pavilion, and when the ceremony was concluded Henry led his bride into the cathedral, afterwards joining Coligny, Conde, and a few other Huguenot gentlemen, who walked up and down the close, conversing earnestly together.

Leaving the Admiral at the Louvre with a small escort, we returned to the Hotel Coligny, discussing the great event of the day.  The citizens were slowly dispersing, and as we passed some of them muttered violent threats against the Huguenots; others cheered for Henry of Guise, a few raised a cheer for Monseigneur, but I did not hear a word of welcome for the king, or for Henry of Navarre, or for our own noble leader—­the most chivalrous of them all.