"'Sire, I have been nominated governor of the fortress of Vincennes.' "'Well, my dear sir, your début does you honour; a king for a prisoner is no bad commencement.' "'Pardon me, Sire, but before I received you I had already received two gentlemen.' "'Who may they be? Ah! your pardon; perhaps I commit an indiscretion.' "'Monseigneur, I have not been bound to secrecy. They are M. de la Mole and M. de Coconnas.' "'Poor gentlemen! And where are they?' "'High up, in the fourth floor.' "Henri gave a sigh. It was there he wished to be. "'Now, then, M. de Beaulieu,' said Henri, 'have the kindness to show me my chamber. I am desirous of reaching it, as I am very much fatigued with my day's toil.' "'Here, monseigneur,' said Beaulieu, showing Henri an open door. "'No. 2!' said Henri. 'And why not No. 1?' "'Because it is reserved, monseigneur.' "'Ah! that is another thing,' said Henri, and he became even more pensive. "He wondered who was to occupy No. 1. "The governor, with a thousand apologies, installed Henri in his apartment, made many excuses for his deficiencies, and, placing two soldiers at the door, retired. "'Now,' said the governor, addressing the turnkey, 'let us visit the others.'" * * * * * The present aspect of St. Germain-en-Laye is hardly what it was in the days of which Dumas wrote in "Marguerite de Valois" or in "Vingt Ans Après." Le Bois or Le Forêt looks to-day in parts, at least--much as it did in the days when royalty hunted its domain, and the glorious façade château has endured well. Beyond this, the romance and history have well-nigh evaporated into air. The whole neighbourhood is quite given over to a holiday, pleasure-making crowd, which, though it is typically French, and therefore interesting, is little in keeping with the splendid scenes of its past. To-day peasants from Brittany, heavily booted cavalry and artillery, _ouvriers_, children and nursemaids, and _touristes_ of all nationalities throng the _allées_ of the forest and the corridors of the château, where once royalty and its retainers held forth. Vesinet, on the road from Paris to St. Germain,--just before one reaches Pecq, and the twentieth-century _chemin-de-fer_ begins to climb that long, inclined viaduct, which crosses the Seine and rises ultimately to the platform on which sits the Vieux Château,--was a favourite hawking-ground of Charles IX. Indeed, it was here that that monarch was warned of "a fresh calumny against his poor Harry" (Henri de Navarre), as one reads in the pages of "Marguerite de Valois." A further description follows of Charles' celebrated falcon, Bec de Fer, which is assuredly one of the most extraordinary descriptions of a hunting-scene extant in the written page of romance.