man who loaded the arquebuse. Henault, in his _Abrege chronologique_,
mentions it with a "_dit-on_" and it is significant that the passage
is suppressed in Latin editions. Simon Goulart, in his contemporary
narrative, uses the same words of caution.

Not many of the Huguenot gentlemen escaped from the toils so skilfully
drawn round them on that fatal Saturday night: yet there were a few. The
Count of Montgomery--the same who was the innocent cause of the death of
Henry II--got away safe, having been forewarned by a friend who swam
across the river to him. Guise set off in hot pursuit, and would
probably have caught him up had he not been waiting for the keys of the
city gate. Some sixty gentlemen, also, lodging near him in the Faubourg
St. Germain, were the companions of his flight.

Sully, afterward the famous minister of Henry IV, had a narrow escape.
He was in his twelfth year, and had gone to Paris in the train of Joan
of Navarre for the purpose of continuing his studies. "About three after
midnight," he says, "I was awoke by the ringing of bells and the
confused cries of the populace. My governor, St. Julian, with my
_valet-de-chambre_, went out to know the cause; and I never heard
of them afterward. They, no doubt, were among the first sacrificed to
the public fury. I continued alone in my chamber, dressing myself, when
in a few moments my landlord entered, pale and in the most utmost
consternation. He was of the Reformed religion, and, having learned what
was the matter, had consented to go to mass to save his life and
preserve his house from being pillaged. He came to persuade me to do the
same and to take me with him. I did not think proper to follow him, but
resolved to try if I could gain the College of Burgundy, where I had
studied; though the great distance between the house in which I then was
and the college made the attempt very dangerous. Having disguised myself
in a scholar's gown, I put a large prayer-book under my arm, and went
into the street. I was seized with horror inexpressible at the sight of
the furious murderers, running from all parts, forcing open the houses,
and shouting out: 'Kill, kill! Massacre the Huguenots!' The blood which
I saw shed before my eyes, redoubled my terror. I fell into the midst of
a body of guards, who stopped and questioned me, and were beginning to
use me ill, when, happily for me, the book that I carried was perceived
and served me for a passport. Twice after this I