s of a
swordsman and the muscles of a wrestler. He was going to say (what was
the truth) that they had come up to look for the Professor's sword-cane,
which they judged might be useful against the King's folk, when, of
instinct far more fine, his companion, called the Abbe John, nephew of
the great Leaguer Cardinal, stopped him with a swift sidelong drive of
the elbow in the ribs, which winded him completely.

"We have come to listen to your lecture, master!" he said, bowing low.
"We are sorry indeed to be a little late. But getting entangled in the
press, it was impossible for us to arrive sooner. We ask your pardon,
dear master!"

Under his breath the Abbe John confided to his companion, "Evidently old
Blessings-of-Peace has carried that sword-stick off into his
retiring-room for safety. Let him begin his lecture. Then in five
minutes he will forget about everything else, and you or I will sneak in
and bag it!"

"You--you mean," said Launay; "I should move about as silently as a
bullock on a pontoon bridge!"

With his eye ever on the carefully-shut door of his private chamber,
and his ear cocked for the sound of sobbing, the Professor moved slowly
to his reading-desk. For the first time in his life he regretted the
presence of students in the class-room. Why--why could they not have
stayed away and dethroned anointed kings, and set up most Catholic
princes, and fought for the Holy League and the pleasure of clouting
heads? That was what students of the Sorbonne seemed to be for in these
latter days. But to come here, at the proper hour, to take notes of a
lecture on the Blessings of Peace, with the gun-shots popping outside,
and dead men--no, somehow he did not care to think of dead men, nor of
weeping girls either! So at this point he walked solemnly across the
uneven floor and turned the key in the door of his robing-room.

Instantly the elbow of Guy Launay sought the side of the Abbe John,
called alternatively the Spaniard, and made him gasp.

"D'ye see that?" whispered Guy, "the old rascal has locked the door. He
suspects. Come, we may as well trip it. We shan't get either the
sword-cane nor yet the pistols and bullets on the top of the guard-robe.
My milk-brother, Stephen, saw them there when he took his week of
chamber-valeting Old Peace-with-Honour!"

"Screw up your mouth--tight!" said the Abbe John politely; "a deal of
nonsense will get spread about otherwise. I will attend to everything in
the room o