ating suspicion. Let each troop come
out of Paris by a different gate; M. de Chalabre by the Porte Bourdelle;
M. de Biron by the Porte du Temple, and you through the Porte St.
Antoine. All other instructions are in the letters. Go quickly from here
to the Croix Faubin, but then slowly; you have still two hours before
dark, which is more than necessary. Now do you well understand your
orders?"

"Perfectly, monsieur."

"Fourteen in the first troop, fifteen in the second, and fifteen in the
third; it is evident they do not count Ernanton, and that he no longer
forms part of the Forty-five," said St. Maline to himself when De
Loignac was gone.

He fulfilled all his directions punctually. When he arrived among the
Forty-five, the greater number of them were already preparing for their
supper. Thus the noble Lardille de Chavantrade had prepared a dish of
mutton stewed with carrots and spices, after the method of Gascony, to
which Militor had occasionally aided by trying the pieces of meat and
vegetable with a fork.

Pertinax de Montcrabeau, and the singular servant who spoke to him so
familiarly, were preparing supper for themselves and six companions,
who had each contributed six sous toward it; each one, in fact, was
disposing according to his fancy of the money of his majesty Henri III.
One might judge of the character of each man by the aspect of his little
lodging. Some loved flowers, and displayed on their window-sills some
fading rose or geranium; others had, like the king, a taste for
pictures; others had introduced a niece or housekeeper; and M. d'Epernon
had told M. de Loignac privately to shut his eyes on these things. At
eight o'clock in winter, and ten in summer, they went to bed; but always
leaving fifteen on guard. As, however, it was but half-past five when
St. Maline entered, he found every one about, and, as we said,
gastronomically inclined. But with one word he put an end to all this:
"To horse, gentlemen," said he; and leaving them without another word,
went to explain his orders to MM. de Biron and Chalabre. Some, while
buckling on their belts and grasping their cuirasses, ate great
mouthfuls, washed down by a draught of wine; and others, whose supper
was less advanced, armed themselves with resignation. They called over
the names, and only forty-four, including St. Maline, answered.

"M. Ernanton de Carmainges is missing," said De Chalabre, whose turn it
was to exercise these functions. A profound