"Yes," I said, as he hesitated.
"The courtyard was filled with Swiss guards. Your colleagues died bravely, monsieur, some of them defiantly, taunting the king with their last breath."
"The king!" I cried in astonishment, "where was the king?"
"Looking from an upper window."
"Yet you endeavoured to make me believe he was not responsible for the massacre!"
"I still believe that to be true; but when it began, he became blood mad."
"De Pilles was at the Louvre!"
"De Pilles is dead! Except Navarre, who cannot help even himself, you have not a single friend left. You cannot return to Le Blanc, and wherever you go you will be hunted down by Cordel's assassins. He can strike at you now without fear, and he will do so. He has the promise of your estates, and a strong hope of a patent of nobility. You cannot leave Rochelle, and even there you will not be safe."
"Your comfort is but cold," I said, forcing myself to laugh.
"I want you to see the truth in all its nakedness, so that you may not feed yourself with false hopes," he replied soberly.