This machine contained Henri III., his doctor, and his chaplain, Chicot, four of the king’s favorites, a pair of large dogs, and a basket of little ones, which the king held on his knees, and which was suspended from his neck by a golden chain. From the roof hung a gilded cage containing turtle doves, quite white, with a black ring round their necks. Sometimes the collection was completed by the presence of two or three apes. Thus this litter was commonly termed the Noah’s Ark. Quelus and Maugiron employed themselves with plaiting ribbons, a favorite diversion of that time; and Chicot amused himself by making anagrams on the names of all the courtiers. Just as they passed the Place Maubert, Chicot rushed out of the litter, and went to kneel down before a house of good appearance. “Oh!” cried the king, “if you kneel, let it be before the crucifix in the middle of the street, and not before the house. What do you mean by it?” But Chicot, without attending, cried out in a loud voice: “Mon Dieu! I recognize it, I shall always recognize it--the house where I suffered! I have never prayed for vengeance on M. de Mayenne, author of my martyrdom, nor on Nicholas David, his instrument. No; Chicot is patient, Chicot can wait, although it is now six years that this debt has been running on, and in seven years the interest is doubled. May, then, my patience last another year, so that instead of fifty blows of a stirrup-leather which I received in this house by the orders of this assassin of a Lorraine prince, and which drew a pint of blood, I may owe a hundred blows and two pints of blood! Amen, so be it!” “Amen!” said the king. Chicot then returned to the litter, amidst the wondering looks of the spectators. “Why, Chicot, what does all this mean?” said the king. “Sire, it means that Chicot is like the fox--that he licks the stones where his blood fell, until against those very stones he crushes the heads of those who spilt it.” “Explain yourself.” “Sire, in that house lived a girl whom Chicot loved, a good and charming creature, and a lady. One evening when he went to see her, a certain prince, who had also fallen in love with her, had him seized and beaten, so that Chicot was forced to jump out of window; and as it was a miracle that he was not killed, each time he passes the house he kneels down and thanks God for his escape.” “You were, then, well beaten, my poor Chicot?” “Yes, sire, and yet not as much as I wished.” “Why--for your sins?” “No, for those of M. de Mayenne.” “Oh! I understand; your intention is to render to Cæsar----” “Not to Cæsar, sire--Cæsar is the great general, the valiant warrior, the eldest brother, who wishes to be king of France. No, you must settle with him; pay your debts, and I will pay mine.” Henri did not like to hear his cousin of Guise spoken of, and this made him serious. It was three o’clock in the afternoon when they arrived at Juvisy and the great hotel of the “Cour de France.”