“My good man, I am not questioning you, I am telling you a fact.  Now, if your son, who will to-morrow be placed in the prince’s way as he passes, should recognize him, or if the prince should recognize your son, the head of Monsieur de Conde will fall.  God knows what will become of his accomplice!  However, don’t be alarmed.  Neither your son nor the prince will die; I have drawn their horoscope,—­they will live; but I do not know in what way they will get out of this affair.  Without distrusting the certainty of my calculations, we must do something to bring about results.  To-morrow the prince will receive, from sure hands, a prayer-book in which we convey the information to him.  God grant that your son be cautious, for him we cannot warn.  A single glance of recognition will cost the prince’s life.  Therefore, although the queen-mother has every reason to trust in Christophe’s faithfulness—­”

“They’ve put it to a cruel test!” cried the furrier.

“Don’t speak so!  Do you think the queen-mother is on a bed of roses?  She is taking measures as if the Guises had already decided on the death of the prince, and right she is, the wise and prudent queen!  Now listen to me; she counts on you to help her in all things.  You have some influence with the tiers-etat, where you represent the body of the guilds of Paris, and though the Guisards may promise you to set your son at liberty, try to fool them and maintain the independence of the guilds.  Demand the queen-mother as regent; the king of Navarre will publicly accept the proposal at the session of the States-general.”

“But the king?”

“The king will die,” replied Ruggiero; “I have read his horoscope.  What the queen-mother requires you to do for her at the States-general is a very simple thing; but there is a far greater service which she asks of you.  You helped Ambroise Pare in his studies, you are his friend—­”

“Ambroise now loves the Duc de Guise more than he loves me; and he is right, for he owes his place to him.  Besides, he is faithful to the king.  Though he inclines to the Reformed religion, he will never do anything against his duty.”

“Curse these honest men!” cried the Florentine.  “Ambroise boasted this evening that he could bring the little king safely through his present illness (for he is really ill).  If the king recovers his health, the Guises triumph, the princes die, the house of Bourbon becomes extinct, we shall return to Florence, your son will be hanged, and the Lorrains will easily get the better of the other sons of France—­”

“Great God!” exclaimed Lecamus.

“Don’t cry out in that way,—­it is like a burgher who knows nothing of the court,—­but go at once to Ambroise and find out from him what he intends to do to save the king’s life.  If there is anything decided on, come back to me at once, and tell me the treatment in which he has such faith.”

“But—­” said Lecamus.