"Faith!" exclaimed Felix, as the soldiers posted themselves in two houses close at hand, "I have heard that Charles loves a practical joke, but this must be one of the grimmest that even he has played!"
"He could have bettered it," said Yolet, our beloved chief's trusty esquire, "only by sending Guise himself!"
Presently a man, threading his way through the crowd in front of the courtyard, ran up to Carnaton, and whispered something in his ear.
"More bad news?" said I, noticing his look of surprise.
"I fear it is not good at any rate," he replied slowly. "Charles has sent for Guise to the Louvre."
"Guise at the Louvre!" cried Felix, "and we stay here with our arms folded! Now this is downright madness!"
"It may be," suggested La Bonne mildly, "that the king wishes to give him orders not to break the peace."
"It seems to me," said Felix, "that we might employ our time better than in inventing excuses for our enemies. This visit to the Louvre means that Charles has gone over to the side of Anjou and Guise."
"It may be so," agreed Carnaton, "but we have no proof."
"Proof!" cried my comrade with a mocking laugh, "it will be sufficient proof when one of Anjou's troopers runs a sword through your heart!"