Saint Bartholomew's Eve: A Tale of the Huguenot Wars

  Chapter 20: The Tocsin.

  As soon as Francois had finished his account of the attemptedassassination of the Admiral, he and Philip sallied out, the latterhaving hastily armed himself.

  "I must go back to the Louvre," Francois said, "and take my placeby the King of Navarre. He is going to see the king, and to demandpermission to leave Paris at once. Conde and La Rochefoucault aregoing to see the king, as soon as they return from the Admiral's,for the same purpose; as it is evident their lives are not safehere."

  Philip made his way to the Admiral's house in the Rue de Bethisy.Numbers of Huguenot gentlemen were hurrying in that direction; all,like himself, armed, and deeply moved with grief and indignation;for Coligny was regarded with a deep affection, as well asreverence, by his followers. Each, as he overtook others, eagerlyinquired the news; for as yet most of them had learned nothingbeyond vague rumours of the affair.

  Philip's account of it increased their indignation. So it was noact of a mere fanatic, but the work of the Guises, and probably ofCatharine and Anjou.

  In a short time between two and three hundred gentlemen weregathered in the courtyard and antechamber of Coligny's house. Somewalked up and down, silent and stern. Others gathered in groups,and passionately discussed the matter. This was an attack not onlyupon the Admiral but upon the Huguenots in general. It was the workof the Guises, ever the deadliest foes of the Reformed faith--theauthors of every measure taken against them, the cause of all theblood that had been shed in the civil wars.

  One thing was certain: all must leave Paris, and prepare for arenewal of the war. But it was equally certain they could not leaveuntil the Admiral was fit to be moved.

  "Truly he is a saint," said one of the gentlemen, who had come downfrom the room where Coligny was lying. "He suffered atrociously inthe hands of the surgeon, for he had come without his instruments,and amputated Coligny's fingers with a dagger so blunt that it wasonly on the third attempt that he succeeded. Merlin, his minister,was by his side, with several of his most intimate friends. We werein tears at the sight of our noble chief thus traitorously struckdown. He turned to us and said calmly:

  "'My friends, why do you weep? As for me, I deem myself happy athaving thus received wounds for the sake of God.'

  "Then he said that, most sincerely, he forgave the man who woundedhim, and those who had instigated him to make the attack; knowingfor certain that it was beyond their power to hurt him for, evenshould they kill him, death would be a certain passage to life."

  An hour later Francois arrived.

  "The prince has seen the king, Philip. He is furious, and has swornthat he will inflict the most signal punishment upon the authorsand instigators of the crime: Coligny had received the wound, buthe himself most felt the smart. The King of Navarre told me he wassure that Charles was deeply in earnest. He feels it in a threefoldsense: first, because it is the renewal of the troubles that he hadhoped had been put an end to; in the second place, because Colignyis his guest; and lastly, because he has the greatest respect andconfidence in him, not only believing in his wisdom, but knowingthat his counsel is always sincere and disinterested.

  "He is coming to visit the Admiral himself, this afternoon, Philip.It is no use our staying here. There is nothing to be done, and noprospect of seeing the Admiral."

  As they moved towards the entrance to the courtyard, the Count deValecourt joined them.

  "I have just left the Admiral," he said. "He is easier, and theking's surgeon is of opinion that he will recover from his wounds,and possibly may be fit to travel in a litter, in another week."

  "That is good news, indeed," Francois said; "for the sooner we areall out of Paris, the better."

  "There is no doubt of that," the count agreed; "but as all say thatthe king is furious at this attack upon the Admiral, I do not thinkthe Guises dare strike another blow for some time. Still, I shallbe glad, indeed, when we can set forth.

  "It is certain we cannot leave the Admiral here. The villains whoare responsible for the attempt will be furious at its failure, andnext time they may use the weapon to which they are mostaccustomed--poison. Even if the king himself begged him to stay atthe Louvre, until cured, Catharine de Medici is there; and I wouldnot trust him under the same roof with her, for all my estates.

  "We have been talking it over, and all agree that we must waituntil he can be moved. Inconstant as Charles is, there can be nofear of a change in his friendly intentions now. He has alreadyclosed all the gates of Paris save two, and everyone who goes in orout is closely questioned, and has to show his papers."

  By this time, they had arrived at the door of the count's dwelling.

  "Come in, monsieur," he said. "My daughter is terribly upset atthis attack upon the Admiral, for whom she has a profound reverenceand, were she a Catholic, would, I doubt not, make him her patronsaint."

  "How is he, father?" Claire asked eagerly, as they entered theroom.

  "He is better, Claire. The king's physician thinks he has everychance of recovering."

  "God be praised!" she said earnestly. "It would indeed have been aterrible day for us all, had the assassin taken his life; and itwould have seemed a mark of Heaven's anger at this marriage of theProtestant king with a Catholic princess. What says King Charles?"

  "He is as angry as any of us; and declares that the assassin, andthose who abetted him, shall be punished in the severest manner. Hehas visited the Admiral, and expressed his grief and indignation tohim."

  "I shall be glad to be back in Dauphiny, father. This city, withits wickedness and its violence, is hateful to me."

  "We shall go soon, dear. The doctor hopes that, in a week, theAdmiral will be well enough to be moved in a litter; and we shallall accompany him."

  "A week is a long time, father. So much may happen in a week."

  "There is no fear of anything happening, Claire. You must not letthis sad business affect your nerves. The anger of the king is sogreat that you may be sure none will attempt to repeat this stroke.

  "What think you, Monsieur de Laville?"

  "I agree with you altogether, count."

  "And you, Monsieur Philip?"

  "I see no cause for fear, count; and yet, I feel sure that it wouldbe well to take every precaution. I acknowledge that I have nogrounds whatever for my fear. I have been infected by my lackey,who is generally the lightest hearted and most reckless fellow; butwho has now turned croaker, and fears a sudden rising of the mob ofParis, instigated thereto by the Guises."

  "Has he heard anything to favour such an idea, or is it merely bornof today's outrage?"

  "No, I think he has heard nothing specific, though he may havecaught up vague threats in wandering through the streets."

  "Why, that is not like you," the count said, smiling, "who havebeen through so many fights and dangerous adventures, to be alarmedat a shadow."

  "No, count, I do not think that I am given, any more than is mylackey, to sombre thoughts; but I own that he has infected me, andI would that some precautions could be taken."

  "Precautions of what kind, Monsieur Philip?"

  "I have not thought them out," Philip said; "but, were I the nextin rank to the Admiral, I would enjoin that a third of our numbershould be under arms, night and day, and should at night patrol ourquarters; secondly, that a rallying place should be appointed, sayat the Admiral's, to which all should mount and ride, directly analarm is given."

  "The first part could hardly be managed, here," the count saidgravely. "It would seem that we doubted the royal assurances ofgood faith, and his promises of protection. We have enemies enoughabout the king's ear, and such a proceeding would be surelymisrepresented to him. You know how wayward are his moods, and thatit would need but a slight thing to excite his irritation, and undoall the good that the Admiral has effected."

  Two or three other Huguenot gentlemen now entered, and a generalconversation on the state of affairs took place. Philip wasstanding a little apart from the others, when Claire came up tohim.

>   "You really believe in danger, Monsieur Philip?"

  "Frankly I do, mademoiselle. The population hate us. There havebeen Huguenot massacres over and over again in Paris. The Guisesare doubtless the instigators of this attack on the Admiral. Theyare the idols of the Paris mob and, if they gave the word, it wouldat once rise against us. As I told your father, I have no realreason for uneasiness, but nevertheless I am uneasy."

  "Then the danger must be real," the girl said simply. "Have you anyadvice to give me?"

  "Only this. You have but a week to stay here in Paris. During thattime, make excuses so as not to stir abroad in the streets morethan you can help; and in the second place I would say, lie down inyour clothes at night, so as to be in readiness to rise,instantly."

  "I will do that," she said. "There is nothing else?"

  "Nothing that I can think of. I hope and trust that the emergencywill not come; but at any rate, until it does come, we can do nomore."

  A few minutes later, Philip and his cousin took their leave. Theformer went back to his lodgings, the latter to the Louvre. Philipwas surprised at not finding Pierre, and sat up later than usual,expecting his return; but it was not till he was rising nextmorning that the man made his appearance.

  "Why, where have you been all night?" Philip asked angrily. "Thisis not the time for pleasure."

  "I have been outside the walls, master," Pierre said.

  "What in the world did you go there for, Pierre?"

  "Well, sir, I was here when Monsieur de Laville brought in the newsof the shooting of the Admiral. This seemed, to me, to bear out allthat I have said to you. You hurried away without my having time tospeak to you, so I took it upon myself to act."

  "In what way, Pierre?"

  "I went straight to the stables, sir, and took one of your honour'schargers and my horse and, riding one and leading the other, passedout through the gate before the orders came about closing. I rodethem to a village, six miles away; and put them up at a small innthere, and left them in the landlord's charge. I did not forget totell the stable boy that he should have a crown for himself if, onmy return, I found the horses in as good condition as I left them.

  "Then I walked back to Paris, and found a crowd of people unable toenter, and learned that the gates had been closed by the king'sorder. I went off to Saint Denis, and there bought a long rope andan iron hook; and at two in the morning, when I thought that anysentries there might be on the walls would be drowsy, came backagain to Paris, threw up my hook, and climbed into one of thebastions near the hut we had marked. There I slept until themorning, and now you see me.

  "I have taken out the horses so that, should you be obliged to fly,there would be means of escape. One charger will suffice for yourwants here, and to ride away upon if you go out with the Huguenotcompany, whether peacefully or by force of arms. As for me, I wouldmake my way there on foot, get the horses, and rejoin you."

  "It was a good idea, Pierre, and promptly carried out. But no onehere has much thought of danger, and I feel ashamed of myself atbeing the only one to feel uneasy."

  "The wise man is uneasy while the fool sleeps," Pierre said. "Ifthe Prince of Conde had been uneasy, the night before Jarnac, hewould not have lost his life, and we should not have lost a battle.No harm has been done. If danger does come, we at least areprepared for it."

  "You are quite right, Pierre. However surely he may count uponvictory, a good general always lays his plans in case of defeat. Atany rate, we have prepared for everything."

  Pierre muttered something to himself.

  "What do you say, Pierre?"

  "I was only saying, master, that I should feel pretty confident ofour getting away, were there only our two selves to think of. Whatwith our disguises, and what with your honour's strong arm--andwhat I can do to back you--and what with our being on our guard, itwould be hard if we did not make our way safe off. But I foreseethat, should there be trouble, it is not of your own safety youwill be thinking."

  "Mademoiselle de Valecourt is engaged to the Sieur de Pascal,"Philip said gravely.

  "So I heard, from one of the count's lackeys; but there is many aslip between the cup and the lip, and in such days as these thereis many an engagement that never becomes a marriage. I guessed howit would be, that night after you had saved Mademoiselle Claire'slife; and I thought so, still more, when we were staying atValecourt."

  "Then your thoughts ran too fast, Pierre. Mademoiselle de Valecourtis a great heiress; and the count should, of course, give her inmarriage to one of his own rank."

  Pierre shrugged his shoulders almost imperceptibly.

  "Your honour is doubtless right," he said humbly; "and therefore,seeing that she has her father and Monsieur de Pascal to protecther, we need not trouble more about those articles of attire stowedaway on the roof above; but shall be able to concern ourselvessolely with our own safety, which puts a much better complexion onthe affair."

  "The whole matter is ridiculous, Pierre," Philip said angrily, "andI am a fool to have listened to you. There, go and see aboutbreakfast, or I shall lose my patience with you, altogether."

  There were several consultations, during the day, between theleading Huguenots. There was no apparent ground for suspicion thatthe attack upon the Admiral had been a part of any general plot,and it was believed that it was but the outcome of the animosity ofthe Guises, and the queen mother, against a man who had longwithstood them, who was now higher than themselves in the king'sconfidence, and who had persuaded him to undertake an enterprisethat would range France on the side of the Protestant powers. Thebalance of evidence is all in favour of the truth of thissupposition, and to the effect that it was only upon the failure oftheir scheme, against the Admiral, that the conspirators determinedupon a general massacre of the Huguenots.

  They worked upon the weak king's mind, until they persuaded himthat Coligny was at the head of a plot against himself; and thatnothing short of his death, and those of his followers, couldprocure peace and quiet for France. At last, in a sudden access offury, Charles not only ranged himself on their side, but astonishedCatharine, Anjou, and their companions by going even farther thanthey had done, and declaring that every Huguenot should be killed.This sudden change, and his subsequent conduct during the fewmonths that remained to him of life, seem to point to the fact thatthis fresh access of trouble shattered his weak brain, and that hewas not fairly responsible for the events that followed--the guiltof which rests wholly upon Catharine de Medici, Henry of Anjou, andthe leaders of the party of the Guises.

  Philip spent a considerable portion of the day at the Louvre withHenry of Navarre, Francois de Laville, and a few of the youngking's closest followers. There was no shadow of disquiet in theminds of any of them. The doctors reported that the Admiral's statewas favourable; and although all would have been glad to be ontheir way south, they regarded the detention of a few days as amatter of little importance. Listening to their talk about thecourt entertainments and pleasures, Philip quite shook off hisuneasiness, and was angry with himself for having listened toPierre's prognostications of evil.

  "All these Huguenot lords know France and the Parisians better thanI do," he said to himself. "No thought of danger occurs to them. Itis not even thought necessary that a few of them should take uptheir abode at the Admiral's. They have every faith in the king'sprotestations and pledges for their safety."

  Philip dined at the Louvre, and it was ten o'clock before hereturned to his lodging. He was in excellent spirits, and salutedPierre with the laughing inquiry:

  "Well, bird of ill omen, what fresh plottings have you discovered?"

  "You do not believe me, master, when I tell you," Pierre saidgravely.

  "Oh, then, there is something new?" Philip said, seating himself ona couch. "Let me hear all about it, Pierre, and I will try not tolaugh."

  "Will you descend with me to the door, Monsieur Philip?"

  "Assuredly I will, if it will please you; though what you are goingto show me there, I cannot imagine."
/>
  Pierre led the way downstairs and out through the door.

  "Do you see that, sir?"

  "Yes, I see that, Pierre."

  "What do you take it to be, sir?"

  "Well, it is not too dark to see what it is, Pierre. It is a smallwhite cross that some urchin has chalked on the door."

  "Will you please to walk a little farther, sir? There is a cross onthis door. There is none here, neither on the next. Here you seeanother, and then a door without one. Now, sir, does not thatstrike you as curious?"

  "Well, I don't know, Pierre. A boy might very well chalk somedoors, as he went along, and leave others untouched."

  "Yes, sir. But there is one very remarkable thing. I have gone onthrough several streets, and it has always been the same--so far asI can discover by questioning the concierges--at every house inwhich Huguenots are lodging, there is a white cross on the door. Inthe houses that are not so marked, there are no Huguenots."

  "That is strange, certainly, Pierre," Philip said, struck alike bythe fact and by the earnestness with which Pierre expressed it."Are you quite sure of what you say?"

  "I am quite sure, sir. I returned here at nine o'clock, and sawthis mark on our door. I did not pay much heed to it, but wentupstairs. Then, as I thought it over, I said to myself, 'Is this afreak of some passerby, or is it some sort of signal?' Then Ithought I would see whether our house alone was marked, or whetherthere were crosses on other doors. I went to the houses of severalgentlemen of our party, and on each of their doors was a whitecross. Then I looked farther, and found that other houses wereunmarked. At some of these I knocked and asked for one or other ofyour friends. In each case I heard that I was mistaken, for that noHuguenots were lodging there."

  That cross is placed there by design.]

  "It is evident, sir, that this is not a thing of chance, but thatthese crosses are placed there by design."

  Philip went down the street, and satisfied himself that Pierre hadspoken correctly; and then returned to his lodgings, pausing,however, before the house of the Count de Valecourt, and erasingthe cross upon it. He entered his own door without touching themark; but Pierre, who followed him in, rubbed the sleeve of hisdoublet across it, unnoticed by his master, and then followed himupstairs.

  Philip seated himself thoughtfully.

  "I like not these marks, Pierre. There may be nothing of importancein them. Some fanatic may have taken the trouble to place thesecrosses upon our doors, cursing us as he did so. But at the sametime, I cannot deny that they may have been placed there for someset purpose, of which I am ignorant. Hitherto there has beennothing, whatever, to give any foundation to your fancies; but hereis at least something tangible, whatever it may mean. What is yourown idea?"

  "My own idea is, sir, that they intend to arrest all the Admiral'sfollowers; and that the king, while speaking us fair, is reallyguided by Catharine, and has consented to her plans for the captureof all the Huguenot lords who have come into this trap."

  "I cannot believe that such an act of black treachery can becontemplated, Pierre. All Europe would cry out against the kingwho, inviting numbers of his nobles to the marriage of his sister,seized that occasion for imprisoning them."

  "It may not be done by him, sir. It may be the work of the Guises'agents among the mob of Paris; and that they intend to massacre us,as they did at Rouen and a score of other places, and as they havedone here in Paris more than once."

  "That is as hard to believe as the other, Pierre. My ownsupposition is by far the most probable, that it is the work ofsome fanatic; but at any rate, we will be on the watch tonight. Itis too late to do anything else and, were I to go round to ourfriends, they would mock at me for paying any attention to such atrifle as a chalk mark on a door.

  "I own that I think it serious, because I have come, in spite of myreason, to believe somewhat in your forebodings; but no one elseseems to entertain any such fears."

  Opening the casement, Philip seated himself there.

  "Do you lie down, Pierre. At two o'clock I will call you, and youshall take my place."

  Pierre went out, but before lying down he again went quietlydownstairs and, with a wet cloth, entirely erased the mark from thedoor; and then, placing his sword and his pistols ready at hand,lay down on his pallet. At one o'clock Philip aroused him.

  "There is something unusual going on, Pierre. I can see a light inthe sky, as of many torches; and can hear a confused sound, as ofthe murmur of men. I will sally out and see what it is."

  Placing his pistols in his belt and taking his sword, he wrappedhimself in his cloak and, followed by Pierre, also armed, went downinto the street. As he went along he overtook two men. As he passedunder a lamp, one of them exclaimed:

  "Is that you, Monsieur Fletcher?"

  He turned. It was the Sieur de Pascal.

  "It is I, Monsieur de Pascal. I was going out to learn the meaningof those lights over there."

  "That is just what I am doing, myself. As the night is hot, I couldnot sleep; so I threw open my window, and saw those lights, whichwere, as it appeared to me, somewhere in the neighbourhood of theAdmiral's house; and I thought it was as well to see what theymeant."

  As they went along, they came upon men with lighted torches; andsaw that, in several of the streets, groups of men with torcheswere silently standing.

  "What is taking place?" the Sieur de Pascal asked one of the men.

  "There is going to be a night masque, and a mock combat at theLouvre," the man said.

  "It is strange. I heard nothing about it at the Louvre," Philipsaid, as they proceeded on their way. "I was with the King ofNavarre up to ten o'clock and, had anything been known of it by himor the gentlemen with him, I should have been sure to have heard ofit."

  They were joined by two or three other Huguenot gentlemen, rousedby the unusual light and talking in the street; and they proceededtogether to the Louvre. Large numbers of torches were burning infront of the palace, and a body of soldiers was drawn up there.

  "The man was right," the Sieur de Pascal said. "There is evidentlysome diversion going on here."

  As they approached they saw a movement in front, and then three orfour men ran towards them.

  "Why, De Vignes," De Pascal exclaimed, as the first ran up, "whatis the matter?"

  "That I do not know," De Vignes said. "I was roused half an hourago by the lights and noise, and came down with De la Riviere,Maurepas, Castellon, and De Vigors, who lodges with me, to see whatit was about. As we approached the soldiers, they began to jeer atus in a most insolent manner. Naturally we replied, and threatenedto report them to their officers; when the insolent varlets drewand ran at us. Maurepas has, as you see, been wounded by a halbert;and as we five could not give battle to that crowd of soldiers, weran for it. I shall lay the matter before La Rochefoucauld, andrequest him to make a complaint to the king. What can we do now,gentlemen?"

  "I see not that we can do anything," De Pascal said. "We have heardthat these torchlight gatherings are part of a plan for a shamattack on a castle, or something of that sort, for the amusement ofthe king. Doubtless the soldiers are gathered for that purpose. Wecannot arouse La Rochefoucauld, at this hour of the night, that iscertain; so I see nothing to do but to go home, and wait tillmorning."

  "You do not think," Philip said, "that there is any possibility ofa general attack upon us being intended?"

  "What! An attack got up at the Louvre, under the very eyes of theking, who is our firm friend? You are dreaming, Monsieur Fletcher."

  "I have one suspicious fact to go upon," Philip said quietly, andthen related the discovery of the crosses upon the doors.

  The others, however, were absolutely incredulous that any treacherycould be intended and, after talking for a short time, longer, theyreturned to their lodgings.

  "What is to be done now, Pierre?"

  "I should say we had better search farther, sir. If there is anyharm intended, the mob of Paris will be stirring. Let us go downtowards the Hotel de Ville; that
is always the centre of mischief.If all is quiet there, it may be that this story is correct, andthat it is really only a court diversion. But that does not explainwhy the streets should be lighted up near the Admiral's."

  "It does not, Pierre."

  After they had passed another group of men with torches, Pierresaid:

  "Did you notice, sir, that each of those men had a piece of whitestuff bound round his arm, and that it was the same with those wepassed before? If there is any mischief intended, we should be morelikely to learn what it is if we were to put on the same badge."

  "The idea is a good one, Pierre;" and Philip took out hishandkerchief, tore it in two and, handing half of it to Pierre,fastened the other round his arm.

  As they went along, they met men with torches or lanterns, movingin the same direction as themselves. All wore white handkerchiefsor scarves round their arms.

  Philip became more and more anxious as they went on, and regrettedthat he had not returned to his lodgings and renewed his watchthere. However, a few minutes' walking took them to the Hotel deVille. The square in front of the building was faintly illuminatedby a few torches, here and there, and by large cressets that blazedin front of the Hotel. The light, however, was sufficient to show adense body of men drawn up in the square, and the ruddy light ofthe flames flashed from helmet, lance point, and axe.

  "What think you now, Monsieur Philip? There must be eight or tenthousand men here. I should say all the city bands, under theircaptains."

  As they paused, a citizen officer came up to them.

  "All is ready, your excellency. I do not think that a man is absentfrom his post. The orders remain unchanged, I suppose?"

  "Quite unchanged," Philip said briefly, seeing that in the faintlight he was mistaken for someone else.

  "And the bell is to be the signal for beginning?"

  "I believe there has been a change in that respect," Philip said;"but you will hear that later on. I am only here to see that all isin readiness."

  "Everything has been done as ordered, your excellency. The gatesare closed, and will not be opened except to one bearing specialorders, under the king's own seal. The boats have all been removedfrom the wharves. There will be no escape."

  Philip repressed a strong impulse to run the man through the body,and only said:

  "Good. Your zeal will not be forgotten."

  Then he turned and walked away. They had gone but a few paces when,in the distance, the report of a pistol was heard.

  "Too late!" he exclaimed, in passionate regret.

  "Come, Pierre," and he broke into a rapid run.

  Several times groups of men came out from bye-streets at the soundof the rapid footsteps, but Philip exclaimed:

  "Away there! I am on urgent business for Anjou and Guise."

  The men fell back at once, in each case, not doubting from thebadges on the arms, which they could make out in the darkness, thatPhilip was bearing some important order.

  "To the Admiral's, first," he said to Pierre. "It is there theywill surely begin."

  But as they entered the Rue de Bethisy, he saw a number of menpouring out from the Admiral's house, with drawn swords and wavingtheir torches over their heads. By the light, Philip could make outHenri of Guise and Henry of Valois, with their attendants andsoldiers.

  "We are too late here, Pierre. The Admiral has doubtless beenmurdered. His confidence in the king's word has undone him."

  Coligny, indeed, had refused the offer of many Protestant gentlemento spend the night in the house; and even Teligny, his son-in-law,had gone to his own lodgings a short distance away. He had with himonly his chaplain Merlin, the king's surgeon, three gentlemen andfour or five servants; while in the court below were five of theKing of Navarre's Swiss guards.

  The Admiral had been awakened by the increasing noise without, butentertained no alarm whatever. Suddenly a loud knocking was heardat the outer gate, and a demand for entrance, in the king's name.

  The Admiral directed one of the gentlemen, named Le Bonne, to godown and unbar the gate. As he did so, Cosseins, an officer ofAnjou's household rushed in, followed by fifty soldiers, andstabbed Le Bonne to the heart. The soldiers had been despatched bythe king, himself, under pretence of guarding the Huguenots; andtwelve hundred arquebusiers had also been posted, under the samepretext, in the neighbourhood.

  The faithful Swiss defended the inner door and, when driven back,defended for a time a barricade hastily thrown up on the stairs.One of the Huguenot gentlemen rushed into the Admiral's room, withthe news that the gate had been forced. The Admiral calmly replied:

  "I have kept myself for a long time in readiness for death. Saveyourselves, if you can. It would be hopeless for you to attempt tosave my life."

  In obedience to his orders, all who were with him, save a Germaninterpreter, fled to the roof and made their escape in thedarkness. The barricade was carried, and a German named Besme, afollower of the Duke of Guise, was the first to rush into theAdmiral's room. Coligny was calmly seated in a chair, and Besmestruck him two blows with his sword, while those followingdespatched him.

  Guise was waiting in the courtyard below. When he heard that theAdmiral was killed, he ordered the body to be thrown out of thewindow. When he recognized that it was indeed the body of theAdmiral, he gave it a brutal kick, while one of his followers cutoff the head; and then Guise called upon the soldiers to followhim, saying:

  "We have begun well. Let us now see to the others, for so the kingcommands."

  As Philip turned from the spot, the bell of the church of SaintGermain l'Auxerrois peeled forth, and shouts instantly rose fromall quarters. As he reached the street in which he lodged, Philipsaw that it was already half full of armed men, who were shouting"Death to the Huguenots!" and were hammering at many of the doors.

  He fell at once into a walk, and made his way through themunmolested, the white badge on his arm seeming to guarantee that hewas a friend. He passed his own door, and made for that of theCount de Valecourt. A combat was going on in front of it and, bythe light of the torches, Philip saw De Pascal defending himselfbravely against a host of enemies. Sword in hand, Philip sprangforward. But before he could make his way through the soldiers, amusket shot rang out, and De Pascal fell dead.

  Philip drew back.

  "To our own house, Pierre," he exclaimed to his lackey, who waskeeping close behind him; "we can do nothing here, and the door mayresist for a few minutes."

  There was no one in front of the entrance, though at all the doorsmarked with a white cross the soldiers were hammering with thebutts of their arquebuses. They slipped in, pushed the bars across,ran upstairs and made their way on to the roof, and climbed alongit until they reached the window of the house in which De Valecourtlodged; felt their way across the room till they discovered thedoor, issued out and, as soon as they found the staircase, randown.

  Already there was a turmoil below. A light streamed out from a doorof the count's apartments on the first floor. Philip ran in. Clairede Valecourt was standing with one hand resting on the table,deadly pale, but quiet. She was fully dressed.

  "Where is your father?" Philip exclaimed.

  "He has gone down with the servants to hold the stairs."

  "I will join him," Philip said. "Pierre will take care of you. Heknows what to do. We will follow you. Quick, for your own sake andyour father's."

  "I cannot go and leave him."

  "You will do him no good by staying, and delay may cost us all ourlives. You must go at once. If you do not, at the risk of yourdispleasure, I must carry you."

  "I will go," she said. "You saved me before, and I trust you."

  "Trust Pierre as you would trust me," he said.

  "Now, Pierre, take her hand and hurry her upstairs."

  The clash of swords, mingled with shouts and oaths, were heardbelow; and Philip, as he saw Pierre turn with Claire de Valecourt,ran down. On the next landing the count, with four serving men, wasdefending himself against the assault of a crowd of armed me
n, whowere pushing up the staircase. Others behind them held torches,while some of those engaged in the fray held a torch in one hand,and a sword in the other.

  "Ah, is it you, Monsieur Fletcher?" the count said, as Philipplaced himself beside him, felling one of the foremost of theassailants, as he did so, with a sweeping blow.

  "It is I, count. My house is not attacked, and I have sent off yourdaughter, in charge of my man, to gain it along the roofs. We willfollow them, as soon as we can beat back these villains."

  "The king's troops must arrive shortly," the count said.

  "The king's troops are here," Philip said. "This is done by hisorders, and all Paris is in arms. The Admiral has already beenmurdered."

  The count gave a cry of fury, and threw himself upon hisassailants. His companions did the same and, step by step, drovethem backward down the stairs.

  There was a cry below of "Shoot them down!" and, a moment later,three or four arquebuses flashed out from the hall. The count,without a word, pitched forward among the soldiers; and two of theretainers also fell. Then the crowd surged up again.

  Philip fought desperately for a time. Another shot rang out, and hefelt a sudden smart across his cheek. He turned and bounded up thestairs, paused a moment at the top, and discharged his two pistolsat the leaders of the assailants; pulled to the door of the count'schamber, leaving the corridor in darkness, and then sprang up thestairs. When he reached the door of the unused room by which theyhad entered, he fastened it behind him, got through the window andclosed it after him, and then rapidly made his way along the roofs,until he reached his own. Closing and fastening the casement, heran down to his room.

  Claire was standing there, with Pierre by her side. She gave a lowcry as he entered, alone.

  "My father!" she exclaimed.

  "God has taken him," Philip said, "as He has taken many otherstonight. He died painlessly, mademoiselle, by a shot from below."

  Claire sank into a chair, and covered her face with her hands.

  "His will be done," she said, in a low but firm voice, as shelooked up a minute later. "We are all in His hands, and can die butonce. Will they soon come?"

  "I trust not," Philip said. "They may follow along the roof, whenthey cannot find us in any of the rooms; but they will have no clueas to which house we have entered."

  "I will remain here and wait for them," she said.

  "Then, mademoiselle, you will sacrifice our lives, as well as yourown; for assuredly we shall not leave you. Thus far we have escapedand, if you will follow my directions, we may all escape together.Still, if you wish it, we can die here together."

  "What is to be done?" she asked, standing up.

  Pierre handed Philip a bundle.

  "I brought them down as I passed," he said.

  "This is a disguise," Philip said, handing it to the girl. "I prayyou to put it on, at once. We also have disguises, and will returnin them, in a few minutes."