For a moment light seemed to come back to those sightless eyes, and with a purr, as if it understood, the great cat leaped lightly on to the table and sat before De Mouchy, whilst the latter put one finger on the tablets, and spoke again: "_Mon vieux_! the poor fisherman has netted some fine gold-fish this time. No little sprats of tailors of the Rue St. Antoine or out-at-heel scholars--but fine, fat, golden carp. The pity of it, Titi, that the great ones of the land will take toll of this haul--tithe and fee; but there will be something left for you and for me--you understand?" The cat snarled, as though it had followed every word, and De Mouchy went on, carrying out his terrible humour: "Good! You cannot speak nor see but you can hear, and so listen! First--the Church first always, Titi--comes Odet de Coligny, Cardinal de Chatillon, Bishop of Beauvais--a traitor--a wolf who has stolen into the fold of Christ--with a hundred thousand livres a year of income!" He paused, and looked at the cat, with a snarl on his lips as evil as that on those of his familiar. "Secondly, the High Nobility--Gaspard de Coligny, High Admiral of France, the tallest poppy in the garden of heresy, Titi. "Thirdly, the Law--in the person of Maitre Anne du Bourg, an unjust judge; but you and I will change his judgment seat for a felon's dock, and give him a garment of red flames for his red robes of office." The cat mewed as De Mouchy went on: "There are many more, my friend, and one in special, against whom we dare not move as yet, for he bears the lilies of France on his shield. But let us on to the sweets, for we have dined well, and need a toothsome morsel. If you could see, _mon vieux_, and had set eyes on her, I should have my doubts of you also, for she is as the fairy light that draws the unwary into the Pit of Death. Can you guess? No! Then I will tell you. What think you of the Demoiselle de Paradis? Yes! Hiss, hiss! _Sus, sus_! On to the heretics, _mon brave_!" And as the cat rose on its tottering limbs, arched its back, and snarled, the man leaned back snarling also, for the blood madness was on him, and he was alone, and had let himself go utterly. At this moment this strange scene was interrupted by a sharp, imperious knock at the door, and as De Mouchy, with a start, swung round his chair and rose to his feet the door was pushed open without further ceremony, and he saw before him the beautiful but pitiless face of Diane de Poitiers, and behind her stood Simon of Orrain. As De Mouchy stepped forward to meet his visitors with a cringing air, the cat, less of a hypocrite than its master, retreated to the far end of the table, and began to hiss like a boiling kettle. "I did not expect you yet, madame," began De Mouchy; but Diane de Poitiers broke in upon his speech: "It does not matter; let us to business. But away with that hideous cat first!" And she pointed with her fan at Titi, who stood glaring at her with his sightless eyes.