varre to-night, but Waggoner Henri in from Coutras with
some barrels of Normandy cider. Do you happen to know a customer?"

"Ay, that do I," answered Jean-aux-Choux, fixing his eyes on the strong,
soldierly face of the Bearnais, "one who has just arrived in this town,
and may have some customs' dues to levy on his own liquor."

"And who may that be?" demanded the King.

"The Governor of Normandy," Jean answered--"he and no other!"

"What--D'Epernon?" cried the Bearnais, really taken by surprise this
time.

"I have just left his company," said Jean; "he has with him many
gentlemen, the Professor of Eloquence at the Sorbonne, the nephew of the
Cardinal Bourbon----"

"What, my cousin John the pretty clerk?" laughed Henry.

"He drives a good steel point," said Jean-aux-Choux; "it were a pity to
make him a holy water sprinkler. I was too ugly to be a pastor. He is
too handsome for a priest!"

"We will save him," said the Bearnais; "when our poor old Uncle of the
Red Hat dies, they will doubtless try to make a king of this springald."

"He vows he would much rather carry a pike in your levies," said
Jean-aux-Choux. "It is a brave lad. He loves good hard knocks, and from
what I have seen, also to be observed of ladies!"

The Bearnais laughed a short, self-contemptuous laugh. "I fear we shall
quarrel then, Cousin John and I," he said; "one Bourbon is enough in a
camp where one must ride twenty miles to wave a kerchief beneath a
balcony!"

"Also," continued Jean-aux-Choux, "there is with them my dear master's
daughter, Mistress Claire----"

"What, Francis Agnew's daughter?" The King's voice grew suddenly kingly.

Jean nodded.

"Then he is dead--my Scot--my friend? When? How? Out with it, man!"

"The Leaguers or the King's Swiss shot him dead the Day of the
Barricades--I know not which, but one or the other!"

The fine gracious lines of the King's face hardened. The Bearnais lifted
his "boina," or flat white cap, which he had resumed at the close of
worship, as was his right.

"They shall pay for this one day," he said; "Valois, King, and Duke of
Guise--what is it they sing? Something about

'The Cardinal and Henry and Mayenne, Mayenne!'

If I read the signs of the times aright, the King of France will do
Henry of Guise's business one of these days, while I shall have Mayenne
on my hands. At any rate, poor Francis Agnew shall not go unavenged, wag
the world as it will."

These were not the highest ide