And this strange man rode on, leaving me a prey to a hundred emotions. For a moment I held my horse reined in, and then, turning, rode on toward the palace. On entering the gates I found the courtyard crowded, and there was evidently an unwonted commotion; but I stopped to make no inquiry, and, dismounting from my horse, gave the trooper the reins, and walked up the steps, feeling with my hand at my breast-pocket to discover if the letter Marcilly had given me was safe. It was there; but the touch seemed to burn me, and, dropping my hand, I joined the throng at the main entrance. So great was the crush that at first I could make no way; and, leaning against a pillar, cast about to see if there was any one I knew who would conduct me to Madame de Marcilly. Not a face could I recognize, until at last I saw Lorgnac a few yards from me. As often happens in a crowd, I had looked at the spot where he was ten times before without noticing him, and then his face flashed upon me as if he had sprung from nowhere. He caught my eye as I looked, nodded and smiled, and finally I edged myself to his side, and we exchanged greetings. “There is something more than usual going on to-day, is there not?” I asked. “I believe news has come that has fluttered the dovecotes here a little. All sorts of rumors are afloat. They say that Coligny and the Huguenots are in arms, and that the Constable, with ten thousand men, is marching to cut off our retreat to Paris.” “Ha! The usual stories when no one knows anything, I suppose.” “Nevertheless, there is something afoot--and Richelieu swears they mean to hasten the execution of the Prince.” “Richelieu! He would be likely to know.” “Probably, but I never trust Richelieu. He appears to have fallen into some sort of disgrace since last evening, for de Baillieul is on guard at the council chamber, and I know that he was refused an audience by the Queen-Mother this morning.” “I could explain that, I think, were there time; but, monsieur, I have a favor to ask. I have an important letter to deliver to Madame de Marcilly. Can you tell me where I could find her?” He laughed a little as he answered: “I’m afraid I’m not much of a squire of dames, and hardly ever know the order of the day for the ladies-in-waiting. Madame is probably with the Queen-Mother, or perhaps in the gallery overlooking what we call the Queen’s Terrace.” “_Diable!_” I exclaimed, with an affectation of cheerfulness, “I know no more of this place than if I were a blind man in a labyrinth. How am I to find her?” “I’ll guide you as far as I am able,” he said good-naturedly, and, thanking Lorgnac, I followed him as he made his way slowly through the crowd, and eventually into the corridor through which we had passed the night before, when seeking Catherine’s cabinet. When about the middle of the corridor Lorgnac stopped before a door.