assistant--the plain black doublet--yes, that
is admirable; but I did not know that Monsieur was so tall,' he added,
in some consternation, as, for the first time, he saw his patient
standing up at his full height--unusual even in England, and more so
in France. Indeed, Berenger had grown during his year of illness, and
being, of course, extremely thin, looked all the taller, so as to be a
very inconvenient subject to smuggle into to palace unobserved.

However, Ambroise had made up his mind to the risk, and merely assisted
Berenger in assuming his few equipments, then gave him his arm to go
down the stairs. Meeting Guibert on the way, Berenger left word with him
that he was going out to take the air with Maitre Pare; and on the man's
offering to attend him, refused the proposal.

Pare carriage waited in the court, and Berenger, seated in its depths,
rolled unseen through the streets, till he found himself at the little
postern of the Louvre, the very door whence he was to have led off his
poor Eustacie. Here Ambroise made him take off his small black mask, in
spite of all danger of his scars being remarked, since masks were not
etiquette in the palace, and, putting into his arms a small brass-bound
case of instruments, asked his pardon for preceding him, and alighted
from the carriage.

This was Ambroise's usual entrance, and it was merely guarded by a
Scottish archer, who probably observed nothing. They then mounted the
stone stair, the same where Osbert had dragged down his insensible
master; and as, at the summit, the window appeared where Berenger had
waited those weary hours, and heard the first notes of the bell of
St.-Germain-l'Auxerrois, his breath came in such hurried sobs, that Pare
would fain have given him time to recover himself, but he gasped, 'Not
here--not here;' and Pare, seeing that he could still move on, turned,
not to the corridor leading to the King's old apartments, now too full
of dreadful associations for poor Charles, but towards those of the
young Queen. Avoiding the ante-room, where no doubt waited pages, users,
and attendants, Pare presently knocked at a small door, so hidden in the
wain-scoting of the passage that only a _habitue_ could have found it
without strict search. It was at once opened, and the withered, motherly
face of an old woman, with keen black eyes under a formal tight white
cap, looked out.

'Eh! Maitre Pare,' she said, 'you have brought the poor young gentleman?
On m