and yet, though unseen by us, the shadow of death was hovering
very near!

Felix and I had gone to the palace together, but, as he basely deserted
me for Jeanne, I was left to wander about alone. I was, however, by no
means depressed by my isolation. The lights, the music, the beauty of
the ladies, and the handsome uniforms of the men, all filled me with the
liveliest pleasure, and two hours rapidly slipped by.

Now and again I exchanged greetings with some cavalier whose
acquaintance I had made during my stay in the city, and amongst others I
met the Catholic officer who had befriended me on the night of my
arrival in Paris.

"This is far better than cutting each other's throats, monsieur," said
he, with a wave of his hand. "Your Henry of Navarre has proved a real
peacemaker!"

"And the king!" I responded, unwilling to be outdone in generosity. "We
must not forget his part in bringing about this happy state of affairs!"

"Nor the noble Coligny's. I expect the Admiral has had more to do with
it than both the others."

Now it was exceedingly pleasant to hear my patron praised in this way by
one of his opponents, and I began to think that after all our prospects
were less gloomy than the conversation of my comrades would lead one to
suppose.

Toward midnight I was crossing the hall in order to speak with Felix and
my sister, who were standing with the Countess Guichy and several
ladies, when I caught sight of Renaud L'Estang. He had been in
attendance upon Monseigneur, but was now at liberty. Turning aside, I
went to meet him, intending to thank him for his timely warning.

"Ah, monsieur," said he pleasantly, "I have been looking for you. I have
something to say, and one can talk without fear in a crowded room. But
do not let people guess by your face that I am saying anything serious.
That lady," and he glanced toward Jeanne, "is, I believe, your sister?"

"Yes," I replied, wondering what he could say which concerned Jeanne.

"Listen," he continued. "I have tried to keep the promise made to you
that miserable night in Rochelle."

"You have more than kept your promise," I interrupted eagerly.

"I have done what I could. It is not much, but enough perhaps to show I
am your friend. Now, ask me no questions; I cannot reply to them; but
for the love you bear your sister answer what I ask you. Can you make an
excuse to leave Paris?"

"And desert my patron?"

"No," said he thoughtfully, "it is too much to expec