Approaching the Marais we heard a tremendous hubbub, and running forward quickly beheld a number of Huguenot gentlemen gathered outside the Hotel de Guise, waving their swords defiantly and threatening to have justice done upon the Duke.  De Pilles was at their head, and I expected every moment to see him give the signal for an attack on the building.  Had he done so, he would have been instantly obeyed, and perhaps we should not have had cause to mourn the horrors of the impending tragedy.

Instead of doing so, however, he suddenly exclaimed, “To the palace!  We will demand justice from the king; he cannot deny us!” and the Huguenots, suspicious, alarmed and rapidly losing their heads, took up the cry.

“To the palace!” they shouted; “let us see if Charles will give us justice!”

Felix, as passionate and headstrong as any of them, exclaimed, “Come along, Edmond; we shall count two more.  Let us discover if there is any honour in the man.”

Not believing it could effect any good, I had no wish to be drawn into the flighty venture, but as my comrade was resolute in courting danger I was forced to accompany him.

The king was at supper when, flourishing our swords and demanding justice, we burst into the palace.  Charles behaved coolly enough, but Anjou, who sat next to him, changed colour and trembled, while beads of sweat stood upon his forehead.

“We demand justice, sire!” cried De Pilles, who cared no more for a monarch than for a peasant.  “If the king refuses it we will take the matter into our own hands,” and he looked at Anjou, who averted his head.

“You will obtain justice, gentlemen,” answered Charles.  “My word is pledged, and I will not break it.  I have assured my friend, the noble Coligny, that the villain who shot him shall be sought out and punished.  I will not spare the guilty parties whoever they are!”

At that we gave him a round of cheers, and marched out, De Pilles and his followers returning straight to the city.  L’Estang was not present, but seeing one of Anjou’s guards I asked if he could find my friend for me, which he did.

“The palace is not a safe place for you to-night,” said L’Estang as he came to meet me.

“As safe as any part of the city,” I answered.  “It seems I did well in taking your advice and sending my sister away.  You have heard of this morning’s dastardly crime?”

“All Paris has heard of it,” said he; “but pardon me if I say that to-night’s folly will not make the king’s task any the easier.”

“Surely you do not expect us to see our leader murdered without protest!” exclaimed Felix.

“Not at all; but there is such a thing as being over hasty.  It would have paid better to show, or to appear to show, some trust in the king.”

“Pshaw!” cried my comrade, “for all we know Charles himself is responsible for the deed!”

“At all events,” I said, “the plot must have been known beforehand in the palace!”