The first task, after dressing himself, was to sit down, and, with the writing materials that stood at hand, to indite a brief note to the Duke of Mayenne, apologizing for not waiting to make a more formal leave-taking. He did not, it is true, announce in distinct terms his determination of joining his arms to the other supporters of the royal cause, because he felt it was within the bounds of possibility that circumstances might yet change his purpose; though, as he left the matter still open, he thought that bad must be the scene presented by the camp of the Henrys indeed, if it could make him prefer the craft, the treachery, and the baseness he had beheld in Paris. In this respect, while expressing his high opinion of the Duke himself, he did not scruple to use language and to display sentiments which had already brought many a venerable and respected head low, amongst the factions and anarchy of the day; and, having said enough to show which way his feelings at that moment led him, he descended to the court, and, mounting his horse, which, with his train, stood prepared for departure, he bade adieu to the Hotel de Guise. The streets of Paris now presented a very different scene from that which they afforded in either the full life of the risen day, or in the dregs of the evening. Few were the persons to be seen walking slowly along in the fresh, clear, unpolluted light of the early morning; and the long irregular perspective of the antique streets might be seen unencumbered by the many gaudy vehicles which obstructed the sight at a later hour. As St. Real rode on towards the suburbs, one or two patrols of horse, returning from their night watch beyond the walls, passed him with tired faces and soiled arms; but, although the numbers that composed his train were sufficient to have justified some inquiry, yet such was the confused organization of the garrison of Paris, and of the army of the League in general, that no one asked his errand, and he passed on uninterrupted to the gates.