fell into the same
danger, from which I extricated myself with the same good-fortune. At
last I arrived at the College of Burgundy, where a danger still greater
than any that I had yet met with awaited me. The porter having twice
refused me entrance, I continued standing in the midst of the street, at
the mercy of the savage murderers, whose number increased every moment,
and who were evidently seeking for their prey, when it came into my head
to ask for La Faye, the principal of the college, a good man, by whom I
was tenderly beloved. The porter, prevailed upon by some small pieces of
money which I put in his hand, admitted me; and my friend carried me to
his apartment, where two inhuman priests whom I heard mention 'Sicilian
Vespers,' wanted to force me from him, that they might cut me in pieces,
saying the order was, not to spare even infants at the breast. All the
good man could do was to conduct me privately to a distant chamber,
where he locked me up. Here I was confined three days, uncertain of my
destiny, and saw no one but a servant of my friend's, who came from time
to time to bring me provisions."

Not until the second day does there appear to have been any remorse or
pity for the horrors inflicted upon the wretched Huguenots. Elizabeth of
Austria, the young Queen who hoped shortly to become a mother,
interceded for Conde, and so great was her agitation and distress that
her "features were quite disfigured by the tears she had shed night and
day." And, the Duke of Alencon, a youth of by no means lovable
character, "wept much," we are told, "over the fate of those brave
captains and soldiers." For this tenderness he was so bitterly
reproached by Charles and his mother that he was forced to keep out of
their sight. Alencon was partial to Coligny, and when there was found
among the admiral's papers a report in which he condemned appanages, the
grants usually given by the crown to the younger members of the royal
family, Catherine exultingly showed it to him--"See what a fine friend
he was to you."

"I know not how far he may have been my friend," replied the Duke, "but
the advice he gave me was very good."

If Mezeray is to be trusted, Charles broke down on the second day of the
massacre. Since Saturday he had been in a state of extraordinary
excitement, more like madness than sanity, and at last his mind gave way
under the pressure. To his surgeon, Ambrose Pare, who kept at his side
all through these dreadf