is master's express command would even exercise his skill to
endeavour to preserve life till the confessor could be brought. Ordinary
Huguenots would regard the desire of Narcisse as a wicked superstition,
and Berenger could only hurry back to consult some of the gentlemen who
might be supposed more unprejudiced.

As he was crossing the quadrangle at full speed, he almost ran against
the King of Navarre, who was pacing up and down reading letters, and
who replied to his hasty apologies by saying he looked as if the fair
Eurydice had slipped through his hands again into the Inferno.

'Not so, Sire, but there is one too near those gates. Nid de Merle is
lying at the point of death, calling for a priest.'

'_Ventre Saint-Gris_!' exclaimed the King, 'he is the very demon of the
piece, who carved your face, stole your wife, and had nearly shot your
daughter.'

'The more need of his repentance, Sire, and without a priest he will not
try to repent. I have promised him one.'

'A bold promise!' said Henry. 'Have you thought how our good friends
here are likely to receive a priest of Baal into the camp?'

'No, Sire, but my best must be done. I pray you counsel me.'

Henry laughed at the simple confidence of the request, but replied, 'The
readiest way to obtain a priest will be to ride with a flag of truce to
the enemy's camp--they are at St. Esme--and say that M. de Nid de Merle
is a prisoner and dying, and that I offer safe-conduct to any priest
that will come to him--though whether a red-hot Calvinist will respect
my safe-conduct or your escort is another matter.'

'At least, Sire, you sanction my making this request?'

'Have you men enough to take with you to guard you from marauders?'

'I have but two servants, Sire, and I have left them with the wounded
man.'

'Then I will send with you half a dozen Gascons, who have been long
enough at Paris with me to have no scruples.'

By the time Berenger had explained matters to his wife and brother, and
snatched a hasty meal, a party of gay, soldierly-looking fellows were in
the saddle, commanded by a bronzed sergeant who was perfectly at home
in conducting messages between contending parties. After a dark ride of
about five miles, the camp at the village of St. Esme was reached,
and this person recommended that he himself should go forward with a
trumpet, since M. de Ribaumont was liable to be claimed as an escaped
prisoner. There was then a tedious delay, but at length