soldiers would be likely to make off, to
join in the massacre and get their share of plunder, as soon as the
affair began.

"You will do, sir, as far as the dress goes; but you must smear
your face and arms. They are far too white, at present, and would
be instantly noticed."

Philip rubbed his hands, blackened by his passage across the roofs,
over his face and arms; and then joined Claire, who started, as he
entered.

"I did not know you," she said. "Come; are we ready? It were surely
better to die at once, than to listen to these dreadful sounds."

"One moment. Pierre will return directly. He has gone to see
whether the lane behind the houses is clear. Once fairly away, and
our course will be easier."

Pierre returned almost immediately.

"The way is clear."

"Let us go, then, mademoiselle."

"One moment, monsieur. Let us pray before we start. We may have no
time, there."

And, standing with upturned face, she prayed earnestly for
protection.

"Lead us, O God," she concluded, "through the strife and turmoil;
as Thou didst the holy men of old, through the dangers of the lions
and the furnace. But if it be Thy will that we should die, then do
we commend our souls to Thee; in the sure faith that we are but
passing through death into life.

"Now I am ready," she said, turning to Philip.

"You cannot go like this, Mademoiselle Claire," Pierre said
reverently. "Of what good would that disguise be to you, when your
face would betray you in the darkest street? You must ruffle your
hair, and pull that hood over your face, so as to hide it as much
as possible."

The girl walked across to a mirror.

[Illustration: Philip, Claire and Pierre disguise themselves.]

"I would I could take my sword, Pierre," said Philip.

"Take it, sir. Strap it boldly round your waist. If anyone remarks
on it, laugh, and say it was a Huguenot's half an hour ago. I will
carry mine stuck under my arm.

"Use as few words as may be, if you have to speak; and speak them
gruffly, or they will discover at once that you are no smith. I
fear not for ourselves. We can play our parts--fight or run for it.
It is that angel I fear for."

"God will protect her, Pierre. Ah! They are knocking at the door,
and the women of the house may be coming down to open it."

"Not they, sir. You may be sure they are half mad with terror. Not
one has shown herself, since the tumult began. The landlord and his
two sons are, doubtless, with the city ba