"By King Henri II.!" cried Aloyse; "how do you know, Monseigneur?" "I guess it! But you can tell me of the crime, since God has pointed out to me my revenge." [Footnote 2: "In tilting and in love-making this youth shall ever Be matched against the king, And shall in winning hearts and breaking heads E'en triumph o'er the king. Yea, though he wish it not, still shall his brand Wound in the face the king. And then, alas! shall love him and destroy him The lady of the king."] CHAPTER XVIII THE LAST RESORT OF A COQUETTE Elaborated and perfected by the aid of contemporary memoirs and chronicles, the narrative of Aloyse, who had been informed by her husband, Perrot Travigny, squire and confidential servant of the Comte de Montgommery, of all the incidents of his master's life, so far as he knew them,--the narrative of Aloyse, we say, thus perfected, gave the following sad story of Jacques de Montgommery, Gabriel's father. His son knew the leading details of it; but the sinister _dénouement_, which brought it to a close, was a sealed book to him, as to everybody else. Jacques de Montgommery, Seigneur de Lorges, was, as all his ancestors had been, daring and brave; and during the stormy reign of François I. he was always to be found in the front rank when fighting was going on. And so he became a colonel in the French infantry very early in life. But among his many brilliant exploits there was one untoward incident to which Nostradamus had had reference. It was in 1521, when the Comte de Montgommery was barely twenty years old, and only a captain. It was a severe winter; and the young men, young King François at their head, were indulging in a snowball fight,--a sport not unattended with danger, and much in vogue at the time. They were divided into two parties, one defending a certain house which the other assaulted with bullets of snow, Comte d'Enghien, Seigneur de Cérisoles, was killed in just such a game. Jacques de Montgommery was very near killing the king on this occasion. The battle over, they set about warming themselves; the fire had been allowed to go out, and the whole crowd of young madcaps rushed about to rekindle it. Jacques came running in, first of all, with a blazing stick in a pair of tongs; but on the war he encountered François, who had no chance to protect himself, and received a violent blow on the face from the red-hot brand. Fortunately nothing came of it but a wound, although a very severe one; and the ugly scar left by it was the cause of the fashion of wearing the beard long and the hair short, which was ordained by François at that time.