Not long after this, Martin Vern and myself were left alone, but the business of the day was not nearly over. He insisted that his house should be my home for the time; but, ere he suffered me to retire to rest, he kept me in conversation for two or three hours more, explaining to me all his views with mercantile brevity and accuracy; and my conduct during the following day, which I am now about to detail, was the result of the consultation that we then held. At length, tired and exhausted, I went to the room prepared for me, and no prince's palace could certainly have afforded me more comfortable or luxurious accommodation. I was too tired, however, to sleep for some time; and, ere I had enjoyed any real repose for more than two hours, young Martin Vern entered my room and took his seat by my bedside. He remained for more than half an hour, and his conversation was not, like that of his uncle, devoted entirely to business. He talked of the affairs of the day, and discussed some light, some serious topics, with which my readers would be but little edified. It seemed to me, however, that there was something labouring on his mind all the time while we conversed; and, as he rose to depart, he put his head close down to mine, saying, in a whisper, "Whenever you hear the great bell of St. Germain l'Auxerrois ring at an unusual hour, set off out of Paris if it be day, and fly to me if it be night." Then, laying his finger on his lips as an injunction to secresy, he left the room without waiting for farther question. CHAPTER VIII. I need hardly here detail my visit to the Admiral de Coligny, which was my first act after rising the next morning, as that visit had no results either affecting myself or the Protestant cause. I had, in the mean time, however, written to my cousin, giving him tidings of his sons, and beseeching to speak with him on matters of deep importance to us both. I said all that was kind, all that was affectionate; and I besought him to give me an interview alone, if it were but of a few minutes, before midday. On my return to the merchant's house I found an answer. It was not in his handwriting, though an attempt had evidently been made to imitate it; and the reply, though given in an affected tone of courtesy, was tantamount to a refusal. The Baron de Blancford, it said, would be very happy to see me, as well as any other of his near relations, and would receive me whenever I chose to call upon him; but, at the same time, to save me unnecessary trouble, it might be as well to let me know that he should not be able to entertain me till after the following Monday. The letter went on to add some unmeaning compliments on my valour and distinction, and some heartless thanks for the care and attention I had shown his sons.