e terraces, while the
huge tower, sixty feet high, looked down into a wide and spacious
courtyard.

"This is pleasant and comfortable," said Roger that same evening, "but
what does it mean? Why have we come here? I understood we were to march
on Paris."

"I do not know; there is some talk of peace. Several important
messengers were despatched post-haste to the king directly after the
defeat of Cosse."

Roger shrugged his shoulders. "I think it a mistake," he said; "one
should never come to terms with an enemy who is only half-beaten; it
gives him time to recover."

"Well, this is pleasanter than marching through Dauphigny."

"So it is," he agreed laughingly; "what a magnificent old place it is!
Your nobles are very powerful; almost too powerful for the king's
comfort I should fancy. How is Felix?"

"Getting well rapidly, and clamouring to leave his bed. As usual, he is
just a little too impatient."

"That is his chief failing," said Roger, "but he is a gallant fellow
nevertheless. I wonder how your mother and sister are!"

"If we stay here, as seems likely, I shall despatch Jacques on a visit
to Rochelle."

"Do not forget to say I send them my deepest respect and sympathy.
Indeed, Jacques might carry a little note from me."

"To my mother?" I asked mischievously.

"Of course," he replied, with a blush that became him well; but all the
same when, a few days later, Jacques started on his journey, I noticed
that Roger's letter was addressed to Jeanne. Perhaps being in a hurry he
had made a mistake!

We passed our time at Chatillon very pleasantly. Felix was soon able to
leave his bed, and every day increased his strength. The rumours of an
approaching peace became stronger, and at last it was announced that
Coligny had signed a treaty, which secured to those of the Religion
perfect freedom to worship as they pleased.

"As long as we keep our swords loose, and our horses saddled," said
Felix, "but no longer," and Roger, rather to my surprise, agreed with
him.

It was the time of evening, and we were walking on one of the terraces,
when Jacques rode slowly into the courtyard. He looked tired and
travel-stained, as was but natural, but his face wore a gloomy
expression that could not be due to fatigue. I went down to him quickly
with a sudden sinking of the heart.

"Well, Jacques, what news?" I cried, with forced cheerfulness.

"The country is quiet, monsieur, and the citizens are rejoicing in
Rochelle.