should have a crown for himself if, on
my return, I found the horses in as good condition as I left them.

"Then I walked back to Paris, and found a crowd of people unable to
enter, and learned that the gates had been closed by the king's
order. I went off to Saint Denis, and there bought a long rope and
an iron hook; and at two in the morning, when I thought that any
sentries there might be on the walls would be drowsy, came back
again to Paris, threw up my hook, and climbed into one of the
bastions near the hut we had marked. There I slept until the
morning, and now you see me.

"I have taken out the horses so that, should you be obliged to fly,
there would be means of escape. One charger will suffice for your
wants here, and to ride away upon if you go out with the Huguenot
company, whether peacefully or by force of arms. As for me, I would
make my way there on foot, get the horses, and rejoin you."

"It was a good idea, Pierre, and promptly carried out. But no one
here has much thought of danger, and I feel ashamed of myself at
being the only one to feel uneasy."

"The wise man is uneasy while the fool sleeps," Pierre said. "If
the Prince of Conde had been uneasy, the night before Jarnac, he
would not have lost his life, and we should not have lost a battle.
No harm has been done. If danger does come, we at least are
prepared for it."

"You are quite right, Pierre. However surely he may count upon
victory, a good general always lays his plans in case of defeat. At
any rate, we have prepared for everything."

Pierre muttered something to himself.

"What do you say, Pierre?"

"I was only saying, master, that I should feel pretty confident of
our getting away, were there only our two selves to think of. What
with our disguises, and what with your honour's strong arm--and
what I can do to back you--and what with our being on our guard, it
would be hard if we did not make our way safe off. But I foresee
that, should there be trouble, it is not of your own safety you
will be thinking."

"Mademoiselle de Valecourt is engaged to the Sieur de Pascal,"
Philip said gravely.

"So I heard, from one of the count's lackeys; but there is many a
slip between the cup and the lip, and in such days as these there
is many an engagement that never becomes a marriage. I guessed how
it would be, that night after you had saved Mademoiselle Claire's
life; and I thought so, still more, when we were staying at
Valecourt."

"T