n her
in his stead, but she had made no resistance; she seemed to the outer
world a dull, weary stranger, obstinate in leading a conventual life;
but those who knew her best--and of these few was the Huguenot surgeon
Pare--knew that her heart had been broken two guilty lives, or to make
her husband free himself from his bondage to bloody counsels. To pray
for him was all that remained to her--and unwearied had been
those prayers. Since his health had declined, she had been equally
indefatigable in attending on him, and did not seem to have a single
interest beyond his sick chamber.

As to the King of Navarre, for whose help Berenger had hoped, he had
been all these months in the dishonouable thraldom of Catherine de
Medicis, and was more powerless than ever at this juncture, having been
implicated in Alencon's plot, and imprisoned at Vincennes.

And thus, the more Berenger heard of the state of things, the less
hopeful did his cause appear, till he could almost have believed his
best chance lay in Philip's plan of persuading the Huguenots to storm
the convent.

CHAPTER XXVII. THE DYING KING

Die in terror of thy guiltiness,
Dream on, dream on of bloody deeds and death, Fainting, despair,
despairing yield thy breath
KING RICHARD III.

A few days later, when Berenger had sent out Philip, under the keeping
of the secretaries, to see the Queen-mother represent Royalty in one
of the grand processions of Rogation-tide, the gentle knock came to his
door that always announced the arrival of his good surgeon.

'You look stronger, M. le Baron; have you yet left your room?'

'I have walked round the gallery above the hall,' said Berenger. 'I have
not gone down-stairs; that is for to-morrow.'

'What would M. le Baron say if his chirurgeon took him not merely
down-stairs, but up on flight at the Louvre?'

'Ha!' cried Berenger; 'to the King?'

'It is well-nigh the last chance, Monsieur; the Queen-mother and all her
suite are occupied with services and sermons this week; and next week
private access to the King will be far more difficult. I have waited as
long as I could that you might gain strength to support the fatigue.'

'Hope cancels fatigue,' said Berenger, already at the other end of the
room searching for his long-disused cloak, sword, gloves, hat, and mask.

'Not the sword,' said Pare, 'so please you. M. le Baron must condescend
to obtain entrance as my