"I have thought it better, dear Louise," I said, as we reached the bottom of the stairs, "That we should both be screened from notice as far as possible; and I have here a nun's gown, if you can throw it over your other clothes. Where is the gown, Andriot?" He gave it me, and Louise covered her white dress with the gray serge; but, as she was in the very act of putting it on, to my surprise I heard the great and remarkable-toned bell of St. Germain l'Auxerrois begin to ring loudly, as if for matins; and, scarcely had I hurried Louise across the court into the street, when loud shouts were heard from different parts of the town; the bells of the churches were heard ringing; the light of torches and flambeaux was seen advancing from the side of the Louvre; and it was evident that, notwithstanding the profound stillness which had reigned in the city as I passed along, one part, at least, of the population was up and watchful. A moment after we heard a loud and piercing shriek in the distance, and Louise, trembling in every limb, clung to my arm. At first she seemed to think that all this referred to ourselves; that we were discovered, and about to be dragged back; but the cries from every part of the town soon undeceived her: and, as I remembered the various little incidents of the last three days; the warning of young Martin Vern; the eager and pressing invitation of the prince dauphin, I doubted not that some dark and horrible scheme for the destruction of the Protestants was upon the eve of execution. Moric Endem closed the door behind us, and, with the other men, sprung to my side; and, remembering the caution of the young merchant, I drew Louise on, with scarcely a word, towards his dwelling. The street in which we were was still nearly vacant, with the exception of the people bearing torches, who were coming from the farther end; but, just as we quitted the shadow of the Hôtel de Blancford, a man darted forth from a doorway on the other side, crying, "Help! help! Here are Protestants escaping!" and, at the same time, he seized me by the arm and aimed a blow at my head. He was masked, but the voice was that of De Blaye; and he certainly would, have cut me down, had not Moric Endem, always prompt and cool, levelled his pistol at his head and fired. He fell dead upon the spot; but the cry had brought a number of the torch-men down at full speed, and I certainly thought that our hour was come. Moric's wit, however, now saved us, as his ready courage had done. He seemed to comprehend the whole in a moment; and, as his religion never stood in the way of his proceedings, he burst out into a loud laugh as the men came up, crying, "That Maheutre of a Huguenot will need no more. By the mass, if I had not had my pistol, he would have murdered some of us. There, drag him along by the heels to Montfaucon. So perish all enemies of the true church!"