the goodness
to do as I request of you? I must see the King, and swiftly, lest I be
missed--up yonder!"

"The King is asleep!" said Anthony Arpajon--"asleep in my best
tapestried chamber. He must not be waked."

"Harry of Bearn will always wake to win a battle or a lady's favour,"
said D'Epernon. "I can help him to both, if he will!"

"Then I will go," said Anthony. "Come with me, Jean-aux-Choux. Take bare
blade in hand, that there be no treachery. I have known you some time
now, Jean. For these others there is no saying!"

So these two went up together to the King's sleeping-chamber. Anthony
knocked softly, but there was no answer, though they could hear the
soft, regular breathing of the sleeper. He opened the door a little.
Jean-aux-Choux stood looking over his shoulder. A night-light burned on
the table, shaded from the eyes of the sleeping man on the canopied
couch. But a soft circle of illumination fell on the miniature of a
lady, painted in delicate colours, set immediately beneath it.

"His mother--the famous Jeanne d'Albret," whispered Anthony; "he loved
her greatly. She was even as a saint!"

Queen Jeanne was certainly a most attractive person, but somehow
Jean-aux-Choux remained a little incredulous. "How shall we wake him?"
asked Anthony, under his breath.

"Sing a psalm," suggested Jean-aux-Choux.

"Alas, that I should say so concerning his mother's son, but from what I
have seen in this my house, I judge that were more likely to send him
into deeper sleep."

"Nay," said Jean, "I know him better--he is an old acquaintance of mine.
Only keep well behind the door when he wakes. For the Bearnais rises
ever with his sword in his hand--unless he is in his own house, where
the servants are at pains to place all weapons out of his reach. Sing
the Gloria, Anthony, and then he will rise very cross and angry,
demanding to know if we have not sung enough for one night."

"Ay, the Gloria. It is well thought on," quoth Anthony; "I have heard
them tell in our country how it was his mother's favourite. He will love
the strains. As I have said, she was a woman sainted--Jeanne the Queen!"

"Hum," said Jean-aux-Choux, "that's as may be. At all events, her son,
the Bearnais, was born without any halo to speak of."

"The prayers of a good mother are never wholly lost," said Anthony
sententiously.

"Then they are sometimes a long while mislaid," muttered Jean.

"Shame on you, that have known John Calvin in your