ered if we were going to sell
ornaments to Peyrot."

He locked the box and proceeded solemnly and thoroughly to damn Peyrot.
He cursed him waking, cursed him sleeping; cursed him eating, cursed him
drinking; cursed him walking, riding, sitting; cursed him summer, cursed
him winter; cursed him young, cursed him old; living, dying, and dead. I
inferred that the packet had not been recovered.

"No, pardieu! Vigo went straight on horseback to the Bonne Femme, but
Peyrot had vanished. So he galloped round to the Rue Tournelles, whither
he had sent two of our men before him, but the bird was flown. He had
been home half an hour before,--he left the inn just after us,--had
paid his arrears of rent, surrendered his key, and taken away his chest,
with all his worldly goods in it, on the shoulders of two porters, bound
for parts unknown. Gilles is scouring Paris for him. Mordieu, I wish him
luck!"

His face betokened little hope of Gilles. We both kept chagrined
silence.

"And we thought him sleeping!" presently cried he.

"Well," he added, rising, "that milk's spilt; no use crying over it.
Plan a better venture; that's the only course. Monsieur is gone back to
St. Denis to report to the king. Marry, he makes as little of these
gates as if he were a tennis-ball and they the net. Time was when he
thought he must plan and prepare, and know the captain of the watch, and
go masked at midnight. He has got bravely over that now; he bounces in
and out as easily as kiss my hand. I pray he may not try it once too
often."

"Mayenne dare not touch him."

"What Mayenne may dare is not good betting. Monsieur thinks he dares
not. Monsieur has come through so many perils of late, he is happily
convinced he bears a charmed life. Felix, do you come with me to the
Hotel de Lorraine?"

"Ah, monsieur!" I cried, bethinking myself that I had forgotten to
dress.

"Nay, you need not don these clothes," he interposed, with a look of
wickedness which I could not interpret. "Wait; I'm back anon."

He darted out of the room, to return speedily with an armful of apparel,
which he threw on the bed.

"Monsieur," I gasped in horror, "it's woman's gear!"

"Verily."

"Monsieur! you cannot mean me to wear this!"

"I mean it precisely."

"Monsieur!"

"Why, look you, Felix," he laughed, "how else am I to take you? You were
at pains to make yourself conspicuous in M. de Mayenne's salon; they
will recognize you as quickly as me."

"Oh, monsieu