d been in it once, years ago, when I had
attended the Vicomte on a state visit to the governor. Ah! that the
Vicomte were here now!

I advanced to the middle window, which was open. Then I started back,
for outside was the scaffold built level with the floor, and
rush-covered like it! Two or three people were lounging on it. My
eyes sought Louis among the group, but in vain. He was not there: and
while I looked for him, I heard a noise behind me, and he came in,
guarded by four soldiers with pikes.

His face was pale and grave, but perfectly composed. There was a
wistful look in his eyes indeed, as if he were thinking of something or
some one far away--Kit's face on the sunny hills of Quercy where he had
ridden with her, perhaps; a look which seemed to say that the doings
here were nothing to him, and the parting was yonder where she was.
But his bearing was calm and collected, his step firm and fearless.
When he saw us, indeed his face lightened a moment and he greeted us
cheerfully, even acknowledging Bure's salutation with dignity and good
temper. Croisette sprang towards him impulsively, and cried his
name--Croisette ever the first to speak. But before Louis could grasp
his hand, the door at the bottom of the hall was swung open, and the
Vidame came hurriedly in.

He was alone. He glanced round, his forbidding face, which was
somewhat flushed as if by haste, wearing a scowl. Then he saw us, and,
nodding haughtily, strode up the floor, his spurs clanking heavily on
the boards. We gave us no greeting, but by a short word dismissed Bure
and the soldiers to the lower end of the room. And then he stood and
looked at us four, but principally at his rival; and looked, and looked
with eyes of smouldering hate. And there was a silence, a long
silence, while the murmur of the crowd came almost cheerfully through
the window, and the sparrows under the eaves chirped and twittered, and
the heart that throbbed least painfully was, I do believe, Louis de
Pavannes'!

At last Bezers broke the silence.

"M. de Pavannes!" he began, speaking hoarsely, yet concealing all
passion under a cynical smile and a mock politeness, "M. de Pavannes, I
hold the king's commission to put to death all the Huguenots within my
province of Quercy. Have you anything to say, I beg, why I should not
begin with you? Or do you wish to return to the Church?"

Louis shrugged his shoulders as in contempt, and held his peace, I saw
his ca