At the mouth of one of these streets, only a few yards away from the wicket, was a small eating-house. It was here that I repaired at sunset, and calling for a basin of lentil soup sat me down at a rough table near the door, which commanded a view of the gate. It had rained that afternoon, a summer shower that passed as quickly as it came, but the eaves were still dripping, and the water was trickling in glistening lines down the walls and bubbling in the gutters. There were three other clients in the house besides myself. One contented himself, as I had, with some lentil soup, and the other two, sitting near a great spit, impatiently watched a leg of kid they had brought with them for their supper being turned thereon by a small dog, now and then exchanging a word or so with the bare-armed hostess who was supervising the process. Whilst this was going on my fellow-companion with the lentil soup kept casting envious glances at the spit, sniffing the savoury odour of the roasting meat as he slowly ate pieces of black bread sopped in the thick soup. The wicket was open, for until compline ingress and egress was free; nevertheless, there was a sentry on duty, an arquebusier, who paced slowly up and down whistling the "Rappel d'Aunis," stopping only to exchange some barrack-room badinage with every serving-wench who, as she went out or came in, found a moment or so to spare for him. It was a lax enough watch, and it was clear that guard duty at the wicket was not so dull a matter as one might have imagined. One of these passing affairs was rather longer and more interesting than usual, and he of the lentil soup was chuckling to himself over it, when we heard the clattering of horses at a trot coming up the road lying between us and the gate. The girl uttered a little cry and fled down the walk towards the Louvre, whilst the sentry drew himself up stiffly. In another minute a party of about half a dozen horsemen filed up, a spare horse with them, and judge of my surprise and fear when I saw it was Simon himself who led them. As the sentry saluted the Vidame he rode close up to the man, and, bending down from the saddle, said something in a quick, low voice, but it was too far off for me to hear. The sentry saluted again, and began a steady pacing backwards and forwards; whilst Simon, dismounting three of his men, had the horses taken towards the riding-school, he remaining at the gate on foot with his three followers. "An arrest!" exclaimed my unknown companion, and the words brought the two others from their kid, which they were just sitting down to demolish, to the door, where they were joined by the landlady and the turnspit dog. The worst suspicions crowded upon me, and from where I sat I watched Simon anxiously, for all depended on his object in being here. He took no notice of the little group observing him, however, but, drawing his men up against the wall, leaned against a buttress, moodily pulling at his long moustache.