e, monsieur? One cannot be too careful in these days."

"The man is a friend, Jacques, and will do me no harm. You are getting
fanciful."

"Very good, monsieur," said he stolidly, and turned away.

"The writer of the letter from St. Jean d'Angely," I said. "He must have
come from Paris on purpose to see me! What does he want? Does he bring
news? What a dolt Jacques is! Why is he so long? Ah, they are coming!"
and in my eagerness I hurried to the door.

My visitor was heavily cloaked and closely muffled, and he made no
movement toward undoing his wrappings.

"Is it L'Estang?" I asked, at which he turned as if to remind me that my
servant was present.

"You can trust Jacques as you would trust myself," I said; "but come
into my room, while he prepares some supper; you are wet; it is a wild
night."

"A terrible night, monsieur; I was glad to see the walls of your
castle."

Bidding Jacques see that a good meal was got ready, I led my visitor
into my chamber, where he removed his hat and cloak, which I sent away
to be dried I made him take off his boots, and gave him a change of
clothing, for his own was soaked by the heavy rain.

"It is kind of you, monsieur," he said, "but I must depart before
morning. I am supposed to be in Paris, and I cannot afford to be
recognized here."

"Still," I said pleasantly, "you may as well be comfortable while you
remain. No one will see you but Jacques, and I would trust him with my
life. Join me when you are ready."

Jacques had everything arranged so that there was no need for any one to
enter the room, and at a sign from me he went out, though very
reluctantly, being afraid apparently lest my unexpected visitor should
have some evil design on my life.

L'Estang sat down to the table and ate and drank like a man who had
fasted long.

"It is a curious situation, is it not?" said he presently. "Here am I,
in the service of Anjou, accepting the hospitality of one of Coligny's
attendants. We ought really to be cutting each other's throats!"

"There can be no question of strife between you and me, L'Estang."

"No," he said slowly, "I am too much in your debt. I have not
forgotten."

"You repaid me at D'Angely, and now I fancy I shall be in your debt. You
have journeyed from Paris on purpose to see me!"

"To warn you of danger!"

"From Cordel? He is my bitter enemy, and hates me, though I scarcely
know why."

"The reason is plain. You are in his way, and baulk his plans