re is a festival at the Louvre--some royal banquet, is there
not?" said Coconnas; "and it is desired to exclude those hounds of
Huguenots,--good, capital, excellent! They have been showing off too
long."

"Yes, there is to be a festival at the Louvre--a royal banquet; and the
Huguenots are invited; and moreover, they will be the heroes of the
festival, and will pay for the banquet, and if you will be one of us, we
will begin by going to invite their principal champion--their Gideon, as
they call him."

"The admiral!" cried Coconnas.

"Yes, the old Gaspard, whom I missed, like a fool, though I aimed at
him with the King's arquebuse."

"And this, my gentleman, is why I was polishing my sallet, sharpening my
sword, and putting an edge on my knives," said La Huriere, in a harsh
voice consonant with war.

At these words Coconnas shuddered and turned very pale, for he began to
understand.

"What, really," he exclaimed, "this festival--this banquet is a--you are
going"--

"You have been a long time guessing, sir," said Maurevel, "and it is
easy to see that you are not so weary of these insolent heretics as we
are."

"And you take on yourself," he said, "to go to the admiral's and to"--

Maurevel smiled, and drawing Coconnas to the window he said:

"Look there!--do you see, in the small square at the end of the street,
behind the church, a troop drawn up noiselessly in the shadow?"

"Yes."

"The men forming that troop have, like Maitre la Huriere, and myself,
and yourself, a cross in their hats."

"Well?"

"Well, these men are a company of Swiss, from the smaller cantons,
commanded by Toquenot,--you know the men from the smaller cantons are
the King's cronies."

"Oho!" said Coconnas.

"Now look at that troop of horse passing along the Quay--do you
recognize their leader?"

"How can I recognize him?" asked Coconnas, with a shudder; "I reached
Paris only this evening."

"Well, then, he is the one with whom you have a rendezvous at the Louvre
at midnight. See, he is going to wait for you!"

"The Duc de Guise?"

"Himself! His escorts are Marcel, the ex-provost of the tradesmen, and
Jean Choron, the present provost. These two are going to summon their
companies, and here, down this street comes the captain of the quarter.
See what he will do!"

"He knocks at each door; but what is there on the doors at which he
knocks?"

"A white cross, young man, such as that which we have in our hats. In
days gone