way towards Montigny.

"Come," he added, after expressing these opinions to the Chevalier d'Aumale, "we must at least give our young champion a good meal on his arrival. See to it, Brissac; see to it. You, who are a connoisseur in such things, deal with our worthy landlord of the Cross, and see if he cannot procure something for supper more dainty than he gave us for dinner."

"The poor man was taken by surprise," replied Brissac; "but since he heard that you were to remain here, there has been such a cackling and screaming in the court-yard, and such a riot in the dovecote, that I doubt not all the luxuries of Montigny will be poured forth this night upon the table."

In less than an hour after this order was given, the arrival of fresh horses was heard; and Laval, who went to the window, announced, that as well as he could see through the increasing darkness, for it was now night, this new party consisted only of five or six persons. In a few minutes, however, the door was thrown open by the aubergiste, and Charles of Montsoreau himself appeared, dusty with the march, and with but few traces of triumph or satisfaction on his countenance.

"What, my young hero!" cried the Duke, rising and taking him by the hand; "you look as gloomy as if you had suffered a defeat, rather than gained a victory. Are the tidings which we have heard not true then, or are they exaggerated? If you have even brought off your forces safe from the reiters, that is a great thing, so overmatched as you were."

"It is not that, your Highness," replied Charles of Montsoreau: "the numbers were not very disproportionate, but the reiters have certainly suffered a complete rout, and I do not think that they will ever meet in a body again. They lost a good many men on the field, and I fear the peasantry have murdered all the wounded."

"So much the better," cried the Chevalier d'Aumale; "so much the better. One could have done nothing with them but hang them."

"I fear then," said the Duke of Guise, addressing the Count, "I fear then that your own loss has been severe by the gloominess of your countenance, Logères."

"There are a good many severely wounded, sir," replied the Count; "but very few killed. This, however, is not the cause of my vexation, which I must explain to your Highness alone. I have, however, to apologise to you for not being here last night, as I fully intended. I did not go to seek the reiters, but fell in with them accidentally, and after the skirmish I was forced to turn towards La Ferté instead of coming here, in order to get surgeons to my wounded men. I find, however, sir," he continued, "that my good old seneschal has made more speed than his master, and has arrived here with his band before me. I must go and take order for the comfort of my people, and prepare lodging for the rest who are coming up, for I rode on at all speed as soon as I met with the messenger whom you had sent out to seek me. After that I will return and crave a few minutes' audience of your Grace alone."

"Come back to supper, dear friend," replied the Duke; "we must let our gay friends now sup with us; but then we will drive them to their beds, and hold solitary council together, and be not long Logères, for you need both refreshment and repose."

When the young Count returned to the apartments of the Duke, after he had seen the rest of his troop arrive, and had taken every measure to secure the comfort of the men under his command, he found that Prince standing in one of the deep windows speaking in a low tone with the page Ignati, while his own officers were gathered together in the window on the other side.

The Duke instantly took him by the hand as he approached, and said in a low but kindly tone, "You see I have been questioning the spy I set upon you, Logères, and he has let me into a number of your secrets; but you must not be angry with him on that account, for Henry of Guise will not abuse the trust. Come, let us sit down to table, and we will afterwards find an opportunity of talking over all these affairs. You have acted nobly and gallantly, my young friend, and have served your country while you benefited me. For your brother's conduct you are not responsible: but I think this morning's events, if the boy speaks correctly, must bar your tongue from speaking his praises for the future."

"Indeed, my Lord," exclaimed the young Count, "my brother may----"

"Hush! hush!" cried the Duke. "There is nothing sits so ill upon the lips of a noble-hearted man as an excuse for bad actions, either in himself or others. It is false generosity, Charles of Montsoreau, to say the least of it. But let us to table. Come, Aumale. See! our good Aubergiste looks reproachfully at you for letting his fragrant ragouts grow cold. Come, we will to meat, gentlemen. Sit down, sit down, We will have no ceremony here at the Cross of Lorraine."

Thus saying, the Duke seated himself at table, and the rest took their places around. The supper proved better than had been expected, and wine and good appetites supplied the place of all deficiencies. The Chevalier d'Aumale indeed had every now and then a light jest at some of the various dishes: he declared that a certain capon had blunted his dagger, and asked Charles of Montsoreau whether it was not tougher than a veteran reiter. He declared that a matelote d'anguille which was placed before him, had a strong flavour of a hedge; but added, that as his own appetite was viperous, he must get through it as best he might. He was not without a profane jest either, upon a dish of pigeons; but though he addressed the greater part of these gaily to the young Count de Logères, he could hardly wring a smile from one who in former days would have laughed with the best, but whose heart was now anxiously occupied with many a bitter feeling.

Charles of Montsoreau was eager, too, that the meal should be over, for he longed for that private communication with the Duke which weighed upon his mind in anticipation. He felt that it would be difficult to exculpate his brother; and yet, in pursuance of his own high resolutions, he longed to do so: and then again he eagerly hoped that the powerful prince beside whom he sat would find some means of delivering Marie de Clairvaut from the hands into which she had fallen; and yet he feared, from all he heard and saw, that that deliverance might be difficult and remote.

Thus the banquet passed somewhat cheerlessly to him; and it was not very much enlivened by a little incident which happened towards the close of supper, when the landlord, who had come into the room followed by a man dressed in the garb of a surgeon, whispered something in the Duke's ear which called his attention immediately.

"How many did you say?" demanded the Duke.

"Only two at present, your Highness," replied the surgeon; "but three more sinking, I think."

"All in the same house?" said the Duke.

"No, my Lord, in different houses," replied the man; "but near the same spot."

"The only thing to be done," replied the Duke, "is to draw a barrier across the end of that street, and mark the houses with a white cross."

"What is the matter, your Highness?" said Laval, from the other end of the table.

"Oh, nothing," replied the Duke of Guise, "only a few cases of the plague; and because it was very bad last autumn at Morfontaine, the people here have got into a fright."

The Duke of Guise concluded his supper as lightly and gaily as if nothing had happened, for his mind had become so accustomed to deal with and to contemplate things of great moment, that they made not that impression upon him which they do upon those whose course is laid in a smoother