any citizens were already in the street.

"Yes," I said, "they will think it is a messenger from Charles. See!"
for the dawn was breaking now, "there is Guise!"

"And Angouleme! And Cosseins! He has come to defend the Admiral! Let us
go nearer, Edmond; they will not bother about us!"

Leaving the shelter of the doorway we mingled with the crowd, pressing
close upon the heels of the troops. For several minutes we waited in
breathless suspense; then the gate was opened; there was a wild rush; a
cry of warning, stifled suddenly, rang out, and the troopers surged into
the courtyard.

"That was La Bonne's voice," I said with a shudder, "he has learned the
value of a king's promise."

Drawing our mantles up to our faces, we ran with the rest to the
courtyard. Already the house was filled with soldiers, and several
shrieks of agony told us that they were killing even the poor servants.
We heard sterner shouts also, and hoped in our hearts that Carnaton,
Yolet, and the few Switzers were making Guise's butchers pay dearly for
their cruel treachery.

Guise and Angouleme had not entered the house; they were standing in the
courtyard, beneath the window of the Admiral's room, awaiting the
completion of the brutal work. We heard the crashing of timber, the
cries of the Switzers, and then the tramp of feet up the stairway.

Suddenly the sound ceased, and Felix, turning to me, whispered, "They
have broken into his room!"

An awful silence fell upon us in the courtyard as we stood there waiting
for the end of the ghastly tragedy.

CHAPTER XXVII

The Day of the Massacre

I always think of this incident in my life with a certain amount of
shame; yet even now I cannot see in what I failed. My comrade and I
would have spent our lives freely in the Admiral's defence, but what
could we do? To fight our way through that mob of soldiers was
impossible; we could not have taken two steps without being killed.

And yet--and yet--perhaps it would have been the nobler part to have
died with our chief! I remember the look on Roger Braund's face when he
heard the story--an expression that plainly asked, "How comes it then
that you are still alive?"

If we did indeed act the coward's part the blame must rest on my
shoulders; but for me Felix would have flung himself at the troopers and
died with the old battle-cry "For the Admiral!" on his lips. It was I
who, regarding such sacrifice as sheer folly, kept him back, though my
bl