"I mean, my lord," said Riquet, starting up and putting himself in an attitude, "I mean all that I say. There is some proclamation," he continued in a more natural tone, "concerning the performance of the true Catholic and apostolic religion, which some of the king's officers posted up on the gate at the bottom of the Count's street, and which the people instantly tore down. The huissier and the rest were proceeding up the street to read the edict in the great square, amidst the shouts and imprecations of the vulgar; but I saw them gathering together stones, and bringing out cudgels, which showed me that harder arguments were about to be used than words; and as there is no knowing where such matters may end, I made haste to take care of my own poor innocent skin, and lay myself at your feet, humbly craving your protection." "Then, get out of my way," said the Count, putting him on one side, and moving towards the door. "Louis, we must go and see after this. This is some new attack upon us poor Huguenots--some other Jesuitical infraction of the privileges assured to us by our good King Henry IV. We must quiet the people, however, and see what the offence is;--though, God help us," he added with a sigh, "since the parliaments have succumbed there is no legal means left us of obtaining redress. Some day or another these bad advisers of our noble and magnificent monarch will drive the Protestant part of his people into madness, or compel them to raise the standard of revolt against him, or to fly to other lands, and seek the exercise of their religion unoppressed." "Hush, hush, hush, Morseiul," said his companion, laying his hand kindly on his arm, "your words are hasty. You do not know how small a matter constitutes treason now-a-days, or how easy is the passage to the Bastille." "Oh! I know--I know quite well," replied the Count; "and that many a faithful and loyal subject, who has served his king and country well, has found his way there before me. I love and admire my king. I will serve him with my whole soul and the last drop of my blood, and all I claim in return is that liberty of my own free thoughts which no man can take from me. Chains cannot bind that down; bastilles cannot shut it in; and every attempt to crush it is but an effort of tyranny both impotent and cruel. However, we must calm the people. Where is my hat, knave?" "I have often wished, my dear Morseiul," said the Chevalier, as they followed the valet, who ran on to get the Count's hat: "I have often wished that you would give yourself a little time to think and to examine. I am very sure that if you did you would follow the example of the greatest man of modern times, abjure your religious errors, and gain the high station and renown which you so well deserve."