La Tribe turned to his companion, his eyes shining. "Our soul is
escaped," he murmured, "even as a bird out of the snare of the fowler.
The snare is broken and we are delivered!" His voice shook as he
whispered the ancient words of triumph.

But when they came to look in the nest at Tignonville's feet there was no
egg!




CHAPTER IX. UNSTABLE.


And that troubled M. la Tribe no little, although he did not impart his
thoughts to his companion. Instead they talked in whispers of the things
which had happened; of the Admiral, of Teligny, whom all loved, of
Rochefoucauld the accomplished, the King's friend; of the princes in the
Louvre whom they gave up for lost, and of the Huguenot nobles on the
farther side of the river, of whose safety there seemed some hope.
Tignonville--he best knew why--said nothing of the fate of his betrothed,
or of his own adventures in that connection. But each told the other how
the alarm had reached him, and painted in broken words his reluctance to
believe in treachery so black. Thence they passed to the future of the
cause, and of that took views as opposite as light and darkness, as
Papegot and Huguenot. The one was confident, the other in despair. And
some time in the afternoon, worn out by the awful experiences of the last
twelve hours, they fell asleep, their heads on their arms, the hay
tickling their faces; and, with death stalking the lane beside them,
slept soundly until after sundown.