I found that the king had come to a decision, which I felt
it to be my duty to combat with all my influence. He had conceived the
idea of being the one to accompany me to the rendezvous. "I am tired of
the dice," he complained, "and sick of tennis, at which I know everybody's
strength. Madame de Verneuil is at Fontainebleau, the queen is unwell. Ah,
Sully, I would the old days were back when we had Nerac for our Paris, and
knew the saddle better than the armchair!"

"A king must think of his people," I reminded him.

"The fowl in the pot? To be sure. So I will--to-morrow," he replied. And
in the end he would be obeyed. I took my leave of him as if for the night,
and retired, leaving him at play with the Duke of Epernon. But an hour
later, toward eight o'clock, his majesty, who had made an excuse to
withdraw to his closet, met me outside the eastern gate of the Louvre.

He was masked, and attended only by Coquet, his master of the household. I
too wore a mask and was esquired by Maignan, under whose orders were four
Swiss--whom I had chosen because they were unable to speak
French--guarding the prisoner Andrew. I bade Maignan follow the
innkeeper's directions, and we proceeded in two parties through the
streets on the left bank of the river, past the Chatelet and Bastile,
until we reached an obscure street near the water, so narrow that the
decrepit wooden houses shut out well-nigh all view of the sky. Here the
prisoner halted and called upon me to fulfill the terms of my agreement. I
bade Maignan therefore to keep with the Swiss at a distance of fifty
paces, but to come up should I whistle or otherwise give the alarm; and
myself with the king and Andrew proceeded onward in the deep shadow of the
houses. I kept my hand on my pistol, which I had previously shown to the
prisoner, intimating that on the first sign of treachery I should blow out
his brains. However, despite precaution, I felt uncomfortable to the last
degree. I blamed myself severely for allowing the king to expose himself
and the country to this unnecessary danger; while the meanness of the
locality, the fetid air, the darkness of the night, which was wet and
tempestuous, and the uncertainty of the event lowered my spirits, and made
every splash in the kennel and stumble on the reeking, slippery
pavements--matters over which the king grew merry--seem no light troubles
to me.

Arriving at a house, which, if we might judge in the darkness, seemed to
be of