"Mort-bleu!" exclaimed Epernon with a scornful laugh. "Vanity and ambition have driven the poor man mad. Get you gone, Monsieur de Boisguerin; get you gone! I shall not trust with any mighty faith to your fine prophecies." Though the Abbé de Boisguerin felt no slight inclination to put his hand into his bosom, and taking forth the dagger that lay calmly there, to plunge it up to the hilt in the heart of Epernon, he showed not in the slightest degree the wrath which internally moved him. Nay, the great object that he had in view made him in some degree conquer that wrath, and he replied, "Well, my good Lord, I _will_ get me gone. But, before I go, you shall hear another warning, which may enable you to judge whether my divinations are false or not. It is destined that, in the course of today or to-morrow, you should encounter a great peril. Remember my words! be upon your guard! and take measures to ensure yourself against danger! Go not out into the streets scantily attended----" "Oh no!" replied the Duke with a sneer. "I do not trust myself alone in the streets and high roads without a footboy to hold my horse, like the noble aspirant to the hand of Mademoiselle de Clairvaut. I am not so bold a man, nor so loved of the people; and as to chance perils, I fear them not." "Your acts on your own head, my Lord Duke!" replied his companion. "I give you good day." And turning away abruptly, he passed out of the room through the long corridor, and part of the way down the stairs which led to the court of the guard. He was scarcely half way down, however, when some sounds which he heard coming from the other side of the building made him suddenly stop, listen, and then turn round; and, with a step of light, he retrod his way to the chamber where he had left the Duke. Epernon was busy writing, and looking up fiercely, demanded "What now?" "Fly, my Lord, fly quick!" exclaimed the Abbé. "I come to give you time to save yourself, for the mayor and his faction are upon you. They have come in by the great court, and I think have killed the Swiss at your gate. Believe me, my Lord, for what I say is true! Fly quickly, while I run down to send the guard to your assistance." His words received instant confirmation, even as the Duke gazed doubtfully in his face; for a door on the opposite side of the room burst open, and a terrified attendant rushed in, while eight or nine fierce faces were seen pursuing him quickly.