A civil war for the defence of religious truth, a revolution to assist in the triumph of a great genius,--such were the objects of Gabriel's secret hopes. The death or deposition of Henri II., or at all events his punishment, would be the result of either of the uprisings. Gabriel would show himself in the second rank, but as one worthy to be in the first. He would faithfully keep the oath he had sworn to the king himself; he would visit his perjury upon his children and his children's children. If these two chances failed him, then he would have no other resource but to leave everything to God. But it seemed at first as if these two chances were not likely to fail him. One day, it was the 13th of June, 1559, Gabriel received two letters almost at the same time. The first was handed to him about five o'clock in the afternoon by a mysterious individual, who refused to deliver it except to himself in person, and would not deliver it to him until he had compared his features with the details of an exact description. This letter read as follows:-- FRIEND AND BROTHER,--The hour has come; the persecutors have thrown away their masks. Let us thank God! Martyrdom leads to victory. This evening at nine o'clock call at the house with a brown door, Number 11 Place Maubert. You must strike three blows upon the door at regular intervals. A man will open it and will say to you, "Do not enter, for you cannot see clearly." You will reply, "I have my light with me." He will then lead you to a stairway with seventeen steps, which you must ascend in darkness. At the top another acolyte will thus accost you, "What do you seek?" Reply, "What is right." You will then be shown into an unfurnished room where some one will whisper in your ear the password, "Genève," to which you will reply with the counter-sign, "Gloire." Thereupon you will be at once conducted to those who have need of you to-day. Till this evening, friend and brother, prudence and courage. Burn this letter. L. R. Gabriel called for a lighted lamp, burned the letter in the messenger's presence, and replied simply,-- "I will be there." The man bowed and withdrew. "Well," said Gabriel, "at last the Reformers are losing their patience." About eight o'clock, as he was still deep in thought concerning La Renaudie's summons, Aloyse entered his room with a page in the Lorraine livery. He brought a letter which read thus:-- MONSIEUR AND DEAR FRIEND,--I have been six weeks at Paris, having taken my leave of the army, where there was nothing more for me to do. I am assured that you also nave been at home for some time. Why have I not seen you? Have you forgotten me in these days of short memories and ingratitude? No, I know you too well; it is impossible. Come to me, pray. I will expect you, if you please, to-morrow morning at ten in my apartments at the Tournelles.