“A good deed ever brings forth good fruit, my boy.”

“It did in this instance, my lord.  The man, who is in the pay of Monseigneur, has since proved a faithful friend in connexion with my private affairs.  I owe him my life.  He is, I believe deep in the secrets of his party, but these he has never revealed, and I have never asked him.”

“Quite right,” observed the Admiral.

“Since the death of Queen Joan, my sister has lived in Paris with the Countess Guichy.  Last night this strange friend of mine advised me with the utmost earnestness to have her conveyed to Rochelle.  He gave me no reason, but from his manner I am sure he fears something terrible is about to happen.  ‘Invent what excuse you like,’ said he, ’but to-morrow morning send Jacques’—­that is my servant—­’to Rochelle in charge of your sister, and let him make no delay on the road.’  There must be some grave reason for his advice, my lord.”

“You have no doubt of this man’s friendship?”

“Not a shadow of doubt; he has proved it to the hilt.”

“Then your sister must leave Paris promptly, and she shall carry a letter from me to the commandant.  That will furnish an excuse for her hurried departure.  I will write it immediately.”

“But, my lord,” I said hesitatingly, for it ever required some courage to hint that he should take measures for his personal safety, “it is of the possible peril to yourself I am thinking.”

“I do not believe there is any danger,” he replied; “but I am in the hands of God, Le Blanc.  If He, in His wisdom, and for His own good purpose, wills that I should die at my post, I am content.  Now, Des Pruneaux shall write the letter, and after breakfast you shall take it to your sister.”

I went out, and writing a note to Jeanne, bidding her get ready for an early start, sent it off by Jacques.

“I wonder,” said Felix, “if your friend’s warning has anything to do with the king’s fresh move.  Last night twelve hundred of the guards marched into Paris, and are quartered near the Louvre.”

“They may be wanted to overawe Guise and Anjou,” I suggested.  “If so, it was a wise step to take.”

“Yes, if so!” he agreed, but the tone of his voice did not imply much confidence in my suggestion.

As soon as Jacques returned, I told him to prepare for a journey to Rochelle, dwelling strongly upon the necessity for the greatest expedition.

“There is some danger threatening you,” exclaimed the trusty fellow.

“No more than there was yesterday, Jacques; but I am uneasy about my sister, and would rather she were behind the walls of La Rochelle.”

“I do not like leaving you, monsieur.”

“You must, Jacques; there is no one else to whom I would care to entrust my sister.  But not a word to her of the real reason!  She must imagine she is doing us a service or she will not stir; so we are sending her with a letter from the Admiral to the commandant at Rochelle.”