almost
beyond endurance, very evidently hesitated whether to give the signal
for the immediate execution of his dreaded foe. There were those at
his side, with arms in their hands, who were eager instantly to obey
his bidding. The Duke of Guise perceived the imminence of his danger,
and, feigning sudden indisposition, immediately retired. In his own
almost regal mansion he gathered around him his followers and his
friends, and thus placed himself in a position where even the arm of
the sovereign could not venture to touch him.

There were now in Paris, as it were, two rival courts, emulating each
other in splendor and power. The one was that of the king at the
Louvre, the other was that of the duke in his palace. It was rumored
that the duke was organizing a conspiracy to arrest the king and hold
him a captive. Henry III., to strengthen his body-guard, called a
strong force of Swiss mercenaries into the city. The retainers of the
duke, acting under the secret instigation of their chieftain, roused
the populace of Paris to resist the Swiss. Barricades were immediately
constructed by filling barrels with stones and earth; chains were
stretched across the streets from house to house; and organized bands,
armed with pikes and muskets, threatened even the gates of the Louvre.

A conflict soon ensued, and the Swiss guard were defeated by the mob
at every point. The Duke of Guise, though he secretly guided all these
movements, remained in his palace, affecting to have no share in the
occurrences. Night came. Confusion and tumult rioted in the city. The
insurgent populace, intoxicated and maddened, swarmed around the walls
of the palace, and the king was besieged. The spiritless and terrified
monarch, disguising himself in humble garb, crept to his stables,
mounted a fleet horse, and fled from the city. Riding at full speed,
he sought refuge in Chartres, a walled town forty miles southeast of
Paris.

The flight of the king before an insurgent populace was a great
victory to the duke. He was thus left in possession of the metropolis
without any apparent act of rebellion on his own part, and it became
manifestly his duty to do all in his power to preserve order in the
capital thus surrendered to anarchy. The duke had ever been the idol
of the populace, but now nearly the whole population of Paris, and
especially the influential citizens, looked to him as their only
protector.

Some, however, with great heroism, still adhere