n from the queen."

"Should I be indiscreet if I were to ask your majesty where this order
is situated?"

"Not at all; it is situated in the Rue de Chevet Saint-Laudry, in the
Cite, behind Le Cloitre Notre-Dame."

"At Paris?"--"Yes."

"Thank you, sire."

"But what the devil do you ask me that for? Has your brother changed his
mind, and, instead of turning a Capuchin friar, does he now wish to
become one of the Hospitalieres?"

"No, sire, I should not think he would be so mad, after what your
majesty has done me the honor to tell me; but I suspect he has had his
head turned by some one belonging to that order, and I should
consequently like to discover who this person is, and speak to her."

"Par la mordieu!" said the king, with a self-satisfied expression,
"some seven years ago I knew the superior of that convent, who was an
exceedingly beautiful woman."

"Well, sire, it may perhaps be the very one."

"I cannot say; since that time, I too, Joyeuse, have assumed religious
vows myself, or nearly so, indeed."

"Sire," said Joyeuse, "I entreat you to give me, at any rate, a letter
to this lady, and my leave of absence for a couple of days."

"You are going to leave me!" exclaimed the king; "to leave me all alone
here?"--"Oh! ungrateful king," said Chicot, shrugging his shoulders, "am
I not here?"

"My letter, if you please, sire," said Joyeuse. The king sighed, but
wrote it notwithstanding.

"But you cannot have anything to do at Paris?" said Henri, handing the
note to Joyeuse.

"I beg your pardon, sire, I ought to escort, or at least, to watch over,
my brothers."

"You are right; away with you, but return as quickly as you can."

Joyeuse did not wait for this permission to be repeated; he quietly
ordered his horses, and having satisfied himself that Henri had already
set off, galloped all the way until he reached his destination.

Without even changing his dress, the young man went straight to the Rue
de Chevet Saint-Laudry. At the end of this street was the Rue d'Enfer,
and parallel with it the Rue des Marmouzets.

A dark and venerable-looking house, behind whose walls the lofty summits
of a few trees could be distinguished, the windows of which were few,
bad, barred, and a wicket at the side, completed the exterior appearance
of the Convent des Hospitalieres.

Upon the keystone of the arch of the porch an artisan had rudely
engraved these Latin words with a chisel:--

MATRONAE HOSPITES.

Time