Francois, you say, was at the Louvre with the King of Navarre
and Conde; and even there, within the walls of the royal palace,
some of the king's guests were murdered; but more than this you
know not?"

"That is the report that Pierre gathered in the street, aunt. It
may have been exaggerated. Everyone eagerly seized and retailed the
reports that were current. But even if true, it may well be that
Francois is not among those who fell. To a certain extent he was
warned, for I told him the suspicions and fears that I entertained;
and when he heard the tumult outside, he may have effected his
escape."

"I do not think so," the countess said, drawing herself up to her
full height. "My son was one of the prince's gentlemen of the
chamber, and he would have been unworthy of his name, had he
thought first of his personal safety and not of that of the young
king."

Philip knew that this was so; and the knowledge had, from the
first, prevented his entertaining any great hopes of his cousin's
safety. However, he said:

"As long as there was a hope of his being of service to the prince,
I am sure that Francois would not have left him. But from the
first, aunt, resistance was in vain, and would only have excited
the assailants. Pierre heard that in few cases was there any
resistance, whatever, to the murderers. The horror of the thing was
so great that even the bravest, awakened thus from their sleep,
either fell without drawing sword, or fled."

"What a day for France!" the countess exclaimed. "The Admiral, our
bravest soldier, our greatest leader, a Christian hero, slaughtered
as he lay wounded! And how many others of our noblest and best! And
you say orders have been sent, over all France, to repeat this
horrible massacre?

"But enough, for the present. I am forgetting my duties as hostess.
Mademoiselle de Valecourt, we are alike mourners--you for your
noble father, I for my son, both of us for France and for our
religion. Yet I welcome you to Laville. For you, brighter days may
be in store. My nephew is a gallant gentleman, and with him you may
find a home far away from this unhappy country. To me, if Francois
has gone, Philip will stand almost in the light of a son. Francois
loved him as a brother, and he has grown very dear to me, and
gladly shall I welcome you as his wife.

"Now, come with me.

"Philip, I leave it to you to send round the news to the tenants,
and to see that all preparations are made to leave th