“It may be so,” agreed Carnaton, “but we have no proof.”

“Proof!” cried my comrade with a mocking laugh, “it will be sufficient proof when one of Anjou’s troopers runs a sword through your heart!”

Carnaton was about to reply when he was summoned to attend the Admiral, and we settled down to wait doggedly for the next piece of information.  It was not long in coming.  A messenger despatched by La Bonne returned a few minutes before three o’clock.  His face was pale, and he had a frightened look which was far from reassuring.

“Well?” exclaimed La Bonne, “what news?” “Ill news, monsieur,” replied the man.  “Guise has left the Louvre and is in the city.  The streets are crowded and the citizens are wild with excitement.  He is stirring them up against us, and they are cheering him, and crying that the Huguenots ought not to live.”

We gazed at each other blankly; this certainly did not appear as if Charles had given him any peaceful commands.  Nor was our alarm lessened when an hour later another spy reported that Anjou and Angouleme were following Guise’s example, and doing their best to rouse the passions of the people.

“They are telling the citizens,” our messenger said, “that a plot to take the king’s life, and to slay Monseigneur has been discovered, and the citizens are crying for vengeance on the Huguenots.”

“Guise and Anjou will see to it that they get their vengeance,” I remarked, for it was no longer possible to doubt that our enemies had determined on our destruction.  We had put our trust in Charles; if he deserted us it was all over.

“At least,” said La Bonne, “if we have to die, we will die like men.”

“With our swords in our hands, and not in their scabbards!” exclaimed Felix, and a fierce growl of approval greeted his words.

As the day wore to a close it became more and more plain that, as my comrade had declared, we were like hunted animals caught in a trap.  We might sell our lives dearly, but we could not hope to fight successfully against the royal troops and a city in arms.

Only one chance of escape presented itself.  By banding together and making a determined rush we might force a passage through the streets, and seek safety in flight; but to do this we must abandon our illustrious chief, whose weakness prevented him from being moved.  I hope it is needless to add that every Huguenot gentleman in Paris would have lost his life fifty times over rather than have agreed to such a base proceeding.

About seven o’clock in the evening many of Navarre’s gentlemen left the house, and some of us accompanied them to the end of the street.  La Bonne having received favourable news from the palace, our alarm, in consequence, had begun to subside, though we still remained a trifle anxious.

We were returning in a body to the hotel, Felix and I being the last of the company, when a man slipped a paper into my hand and instantly disappeared.