"He has gone to the provost of the Mercer Guild about this notice of the
quartering of the dragoons."

"Ah, you have not told me of that."

"Here it is." She rose and took up a slip of blue paper with a red seal
dangling from it which lay upon the table. His strong, black brows
knitted together as he glanced at it.

"Take notice," it ran, "that you, Theophile Catinat, cloth-mercer of
the Rue St. Martin, are hereby required to give shelter and rations to
twenty men of the Languedoc Blue Dragoons under Captain Dalbert, until
such time as you receive a further notice. [Signed] De Beaupre
(Commissioner of the King)."

De Catinat knew well how this method of annoying Huguenots had been
practised all over France, but he had flattered himself that his own
position at court would have insured his kinsman from such an outrage.
He threw the paper down with an exclamation of anger.

"When do they come?"

"Father said to-night."

"Then they shall not be here long. To-morrow I shall have an order to
remove them. But the sun has sunk behind St. Martin's Church, and I
should already be upon my way."

"No, no; you must not go yet."