I had yet to learn how great he could be; and here, as I write these lines in my study in the watch tower of Auriac, round which the sea-gulls circle and scream, my old eyes grow dim, and I lay down my pen and wonder for a moment at His will, which did not shield that brave heart from an assassin's blow. The throng was so thick that for a time we were unable to gain a passage, and were compelled to go at a walking pace, and Belin, reining in his fretting beast, exclaimed, 'Faith! 'tis the largest gathering I have ever seen.' 'All France is here to-day,' said de Valryn. 'There go d'Ossat, and his Eminence fresh from the Quirinal.' 'I wonder d'Ossat did not win his red hat as well as Monseigneur of Evreux,' said de Vitry. 'Ah! he is so unlike the Cardinal,' replied de Valryn. 'How do you mean?' 'In this way. His Eminence deceives but he never lies; the Bishop, on the other hand, lies, but he never deceives.' 'It would cost you your regiment if the King heard that, de Valryn.' 'On the contrary, I am sure it will get to his ears, and then I could almost hope for the vacant baton, though 'tis said that is already in Ornano's hand--see, there is the Constable's banner!' 'And Bouillon too--the stormy petrel is back from Sedan--I almost sniff war in the air.' 'Oh, he has taken to himself a wife--See! He has quartered the arms of La Marck on his scutcheon.' '_Si dieu ne me vult, le diable me prye_,' said d'Aubusson, reading the scroll on the banner of Turenne; and then, the crowd giving way for a moment, we took the opportunity and passed through the gates of the Louvre. So full did we find the Petite Galerie on our entrance, that it was impossible to see or to observe who was there, and all that I was conscious of, as I slowly made my way forwards at the heels of de Belin, was the sound of music, the murmur of voices, and the rippling of gay laughter. In front of us was the noble stairway that led to the Galerie d'Apollon, and between the silent and statue-like figures of the King's House who lined the steps, and who still wore their violet sashes in token of mourning for the death of Gabrielle, there seemed an endless train of men and women advancing upwards. Amongst the jewelled clusters of fair and dainty dames, my eye sought in vain for the face of Madame; but my glance was, for the moment, arrested by the graceful figure of the celebrated La Noirmoutiers, as, with one arched and scarlet-shod foot resting on the white marble of the topmost step of the stairway, she turned to address some laughing remark to the cavalier who was her escort. I had not seen her since I was a boy of fifteen; but years had not changed her--her eyes were as lustrous, her cheeks as pink and dimpled as when she trailed the honour of Lorraine in the dust, and broke the heart of Joyeuse. I could not restrain a feeling of pity for the man upon whom she was now turning the light of her cruel beauty, for there was that in his