a room as I had never seen before. It was richly hung from
ceiling to floor with blue silk, and lighted by the soft rays of
lamps shaded by Venetian globes of delicate hues. The scent of
cedar wood was in the air, and on the hearth in a velvet tray
were some tiny puppies. A dainty disorder reigned everywhere.
On one table a jewel-case stood open, on another lay some lace
garments, two or three masks and a fan. A gemmed riding-whip and
a silver-hilted poniard hung on the same peg. And, strangest of
all, huddled away behind the door, I espied a plain, black-
sheathed sword, and a man's gauntlets.

She did not wait a moment, but went at once to the jewel-case.
She took from it a gold ring--a heavy seal ring. She held this
out to me in the most matter-of-fact way--scarcely turning, in
fact. "Put it on your finger," she said hurriedly. "If you are
stopped by soldiers, or if they will not give you a boat to cross
the river, say boldly that you are on the king's service. Call
for the officer and show that ring. Play the man. Bid him stop
you at his peril!"

I hastily muttered my thanks, and she as hastily took something
from a drawer, and tore it into strips. Before I knew what she
was doing she was on her knees by me, fastening a white band of
linen round my left sleeve. Then she took my cap, and with the
same precipitation fixed a fragment of the stuff in it, in the
form of a rough cross.

"There," she said. "Now, listen, M. de Caylus. There is more
afoot to-night than you know of. Those badges will help you
across to St. Germain, but the moment you land tear them off: