that dear little Diane, whose late visit at the chateau had been
marked by such unusual tranquility between the children.

Beranger, in his dark closet, comforted himself with the shrewd
suspicion that his father was so employed as not to be expected at
home till supper-time, and that his mother's wrath was by no means
likely to be so enduring as to lead her to make complaints of the
prisoners; and when he heard a trampling of horses in the court, he
anticipated a speedy release and summons to show himself to the
visitors. He waited long, however, before he heard the pattering
of little feet; then a stool scraped along the floor, the button of
his door was undone, the stool pushed back, and as he emerged,
Eustacie stood before him with her finger to her lip. 'CHUT,
Beranger! It is my father and uncle, and Narcisse, and, oh! so many
_gens d'armes_. They are come to summon M. le Baron to go with
them to disperse the _preche_ by the Bac de l'Oie. And oh,
Beranger, is he not there?'

'I do not know. He went out with his hawk, and I do not think he
could have gone anywhere else. Did they say so to my mother?'

'Yes; but she never knows. And oh, Beranger, Narcisse told me--ah,
was it to tease me?--that Diane has told them all they wanted to
know, for that they sent her here on purpose to see if we were not
all Huguenots.

'Very likely, the little viper! Le me pass, Eustacie. I must go
and tell my father.'

'Thou canst not get out that way; the court is full of men-at-arms.