y then, I have seen the meeting of Henry of Valois and Henry of
Navarre! They fell each on the other's neck and kissed!"

The two inquisitors rose to their feet. For the first time emotion
showed on their faces. The chief, tall, black, sombre, stood and
threatened Jean-aux-Choux with comminatory forefinger.

"If you speak lies, beware!"

The little Italian, formerly so grey and still, nothing stirring about
him save the restless, beady eyes common to all Neapolitans, stood up
and vociferated.

"It is an open defiance of our Holy Father," he cried, "a shame of
shames--the Valois shall be accursed! He has delivered his realm to the
Huguenot. He shall be burnt alive, and I--I would refuse him the
_viaticum_!"

"He may not have time even for that!" said Mariana softly--"that is,
when his day comes. But haste you, man, tell us what befel--where, and
how."

"On Sunday last," began Jean-aux-Choux, looking his three inquisitors in
the face with the utmost calm, "I was, as Father Mariana knows, in a
certain place upon the affairs of my master.

"It was in a park near a great city of many towers. A river ran near by
and a bridge spanned it. At the bridge-head were three great
nobles--dukes and peers of France, so they said. Many people were in the
park and about the palace which stood within it. There seemed no fear.
The place was open to all. About a chapel door they cried 'God save the
King!' For within a man, splendidly arrayed, was hearing mass--I saw him
enter."

The inquisitors looked at one another, nodding expressively.

"But I cared not for that. I was at the bridge-head, and almost at my
elbow the three nobles conferred one with the other, doubtful if he for
whom they waited would come.

"'I should not, if I were he,' said one of them; 'my father did the
like, and died! Only he had a written promise.'"

"That was Chatillon, Coligny's son, I warrant," said Mariana, who seemed
to know everything.

"And another said, 'He has my word--he will believe that, though he
doubts that of the King!'"

"Epernon, for a wager!" cried the Jesuit, clapping his hands; "there
spoke the man! And the third, what said he?"

"Oh, he--no great matter," answered Jean-aux-Choux, gently stroking his
brow, as if to recall a matter long past. "Ah, I do remember--he only
caused great swelling words to come from his mouth, and rattled his
sword in his scabbard, declaring that if there was any treachery he
would thrust the traitor t