by they let God bear the burden of distinguishing his own;
now we have grown more civilized and we save him the bother."

"But at each house at which he knocks the door opens and from each house
armed citizens come out."

"He will knock here in turn, and we shall in turn go out."

"What," said Coconnas, "every one called out to go and kill one old
Huguenot? By Heaven! it is shameful! It is an affair of cut-throats, and
not of soldiers."

"Young man," replied Maurevel, "if the old are objectionable to you, you
may choose young ones--you will find plenty for all tastes. If you
despise daggers, use your sword, for the Huguenots are not the men to
allow their throats to be cut without defending themselves, and you know
that Huguenots, young or old, are tough."

"But are they all going to be killed, then?" cried Coconnas.

"All!"

"By the King's order?"

"By order of the King and Monsieur de Guise."

"And when?"

"When you hear the bell of Saint Germain l'Auxerrois."

"Oh! so that was why that amiable German attached to the Duc de
Guise--what is his name?"

"Monsieur de Besme."

"That is it. That is why Monsieur de Besme told me to hasten at the
first sound of the tocsin."

"So then you have seen Monsieur de Besme?"

"I have seen him and spoken to him."

"Where?"

"At the Louvre. He admitted me, gave me the pass-word, gave me"--

"Look there!"

"By Heaven!--there he is himself."

"Would you speak with him?"

"Why, really, I should not object."

Maurevel carefully opened the window; Besme was passing at the moment
with twenty soldiers.

"_Guise and Lorraine!_" said Maurevel.

Besme turned round, and perceiving that he himself was addressed, came
under the window.

"Oh, is it you, Monsir de Maurefel?"

"Yes, 'tis I; what are you looking for?"

"I am looking for de hostelry of de _Belle Etoile_, to find a Monsir
Gogonnas."

"Here I am, Monsieur de Besme," said the young man.

"Goot, goot; are you ready?"

"Yes--to do what?"

"Vatefer Monsieur de Maurefel may dell you, for he is a goot Gatolic."

"Do you hear?" inquired Maurevel.

"Yes," replied Coconnas, "but, Monsieur de Besme, where are you going?"

"I?" asked Monsieur de Besme, with a laugh.

"Yes, you."

"I am going to fire off a leedle wort at the admiral."

"Fire off two, if need be," said Maurevel, "and this time, if he gets up
at the first, do not let him get up at the second."

"Haf no vear, Monsir de Maurefel, haf n