The king sprang to the ground, affected even to tears, exclaiming in a tone of unfeigned regret, "Alas, alas! is he then really dead?" Walking rapidly forward, he proceeded towards the royal headquarters, and entered the Maison de Gondi; and the news of Henry III.'s death proceeded rapidly through the town. Every house began soon to pour forth its inhabitants; and ere the sun was well risen, all was bustle, and agitation, and confusion. Although a feeling of reverence for that fearful thing, death, and the awe which an event of such magnitude might well inspire, repressed much of the noise which otherwise would have been heard: and though the eager consultations and busy rumours were carried on in no louder tone than a whisper, still it was evident, from every symptom displayed by the multitudes which now thronged the streets of St. Cloud, that the ties which linked society together were broken, that the foundations were shaken, and that not only the fabric of the royal army, but even of the French monarchy itself, was wavering as if to fall. After gazing out for a few minutes upon the scene below, with the feelings of a mere spectator, St. Real remembered that he himself had a part to act; and as the _auberge_, in common with all the other houses of the town, was by this time roused, he called for his attendants, and despatched a messenger to his cousin, intimating his wish to speak with him immediately. Then casting on his cloak, he went forth into the street; and entering into conversation with some of the inferior officers of the troops, he tried to gain some insight into the various feelings and motives by which the lower ranks of the royal army were actuated; and, wherever he found it possible, endeavoured to give a bias to the wavering and undetermined in favour of that conduct which could alone save the monarchy and the country. To every one whom he addressed St. Real was a stranger; and though his dress was such as became his station, yet his rank and character being unknown, it was not at all improbable that he would have met with insolence, if not violence, had there not been in his whole demeanour that mingling of frankness and dignity, of sincerity and of grace, which went far, not only to win and to persuade, but to command attention and respect. While he was thus engaged, the attendant whom he had despatched to his cousin returned, and informed him that the Count d'Aubin had gone up to the royal quarters; and, almost at the same moment, a hand was laid upon his arm, and turning round, he beheld Monsieur de Sancy. "A moment's conversation with you, Monsieur de St. Real," he said, leading the way towards the _auberge_. St. Real instantly followed, and on entering, conducted the old officer to his own apartments. "Is your mind the same as when last I saw you?" demanded De Sancy, as soon as the door was shut. "Undoubtedly," replied St. Real; "you cannot suppose I would change."