"Wait yet a moment, Sire!" urged the cardinal. "I am sure that the uproar is really growing fainter now. Yes, the reports are much less frequent. Ah! here is a page, with news, no doubt." "Sire," said the page, "I am instructed by Monsieur le Duc de Guise to say to your Majesty that the Protestants have given way and are in full retreat." "At last! That is happy news!" cried the king. "As soon as Monsieur le Lieutenant-General thinks that he can safely leave the walls," continued the page, "he will hasten to make his report to the king." The page thereupon left the room. "Well, Sire," observed the Cardinal de Lorraine, triumphantly, "was I not right in predicting that it would be mere child's play, and that Monsieur my illustrious and gallant brother would soon give a good account of these singers of hymns?" "Oh, my dear uncle," François retorted ironically, "how suddenly your courage has returned!" As he spoke, a second explosion was heard, much louder and more awful than the first. "What can that noise mean?" said the king. "In truth, it is strange," the cardinal replied, beginning to tremble afresh. Fortunately his alarm did not last long. Richelieu, the captain of arquebusiers, came in almost immediately with his face begrimed with powder, and a bloody sword in his hand. "Sire," Richelieu thus addressed the king, "the rebels are utterly routed. They scarcely had time to explode a quantity of powder which they had deposited near one of the gates, and which inflicted no damage on us. Those who were not taken or slain recrossed the bridge and have barricaded themselves in one of the houses in the Faubourg du Vendômois, where we shall have an easy prey. Your Majesty may see from this window how we will treat them." The king ran quickly to the window, followed by the cardinal, and more slowly by the queen. "Yes, indeed," said he, "there they are, having their turn at being besieged. But what is this I see? What is all the smoke pouring from the house?" "Sire, it has been set on fire," said the captain. "Very good! marvellously well done!" ejaculated the cardinal. "Look, Sire, see them leaping from the window! Two, three, four,--more, more! Do you hear their shrieks?" "Oh, God! the poor wretches!" cried Mary Stuart, clasping her hands. "It seems to me," observed the king, "that I can distinguish at the head of our troops the plume and scarf of our cousin De Condé. Is it really he, Captain?" "Yes, your Majesty," replied Richelieu. "He has been among us all the time, sword in hand, fighting beside Monsieur de Guise." "Well, Monsieur le Cardinal," said François, "you see that he did not wait to be asked." "He could not have afforded to, Sire!" replied Charles de Lorraine. "Monsieur le Prince would have risked too much if he had acted otherwise than he has." "Oh, see!" cried Mary, repelled and fascinated at once by the horrible spectacle without; "the flames are much more intense! the house will fall in upon the poor wretches!"