His words made no great impression on me then.  My hardihood was returning.  I was throbbing with fierce excitement, and tingling for the fight.  But years afterwards, when the two who stood highest in the group about Coligny’s threshold died, the one at thirty-eight, the other at thirty-five—­when Henry of Guise and Henry of Valois died within six months of one another by the assassin’s knife—­I remembered Pavannes’ augury.  And remembering it, I read the ways of Providence, and saw that the very audacity of which Guise took advantage to entrap Coligny led him too in his turn to trip smiling and bowing, a comfit box in his hand and the kisses of his mistress damp on his lips, into a king’s closet—­a king’s closet at Blois!  Led him to lift the curtain—­ ah! to lift the curtain, what Frenchman does not know the tale? —­behind which stood the Admiral!

To return to our own fortunes; after a hurried glance we resumed our way, and sped through the alley, holding a brief consultation as we went.  Pavannes’ first hasty instinct to seek shelter at home began to lose its force, and he to consider whether his return would not endanger his wife.  The mob might be expected to spare her, he argued.  Her death would not benefit any private foes if he escaped.  He was for keeping away therefore.  But I would not agree to this.  The priest’s crew of desperadoes—­ assuming Pavannes’ suspicions to be correct—­would wait some time, no doubt, to give the master of the house a chance to return, but would certainly attack sooner or later out of greed, if from no other motive.  Then the lady’s fate would at the best be uncertain.  I was anxious myself to rejoin my brothers, and take all future chances, whether of saving our Louis, or escaping ourselves, with them.  United we should be four good swords, and might at least protect Madame de Pavannes to a place of safety, if no opportunity of succouring Louis should present itself.  We had too the Duke’s ring, and this might be of service at a pinch.  “No,” I urged, “let us get together.  We two will slip in at the front gate, and bolt and bar it, and then we will all escape in a body at the back, while they are forcing the gateway.”

“There is no door at the back,” he answered, shaking his head.

“There are windows?”

“They are too strongly barred.  We could not break out in the time,” he explained, with a groan.

I paused at that, crestfallen.  But danger quickened my wits.  In a moment I had another plan, not so hopeful and more dangerous, yet worth trying I thought, I told him of it, and he agreed to it.  As he nodded assent we emerged into a street, and I saw—­for the grey light of morning was beginning to penetrate between the houses—­that we were only a few yards from the gateway, and the small door by which I had seen my brothers enter.  Were they still in the house?  Were they safe?  I had been away an hour at least.