“There speaks the true Huguenot.  If all our men were like that,” said La Renaudie, laying his hand on Christophe’s shoulder, “we should be conquerors to-morrow.”

“Young man,” resumed the prince, “I desire to show you that if Chaudieu preaches, if the nobleman goes armed, the prince fights.  Therefore, in this hot game all stakes are played.”

“Now listen to me,” said La Renaudie.  “I will not give you the papers until you reach Beaugency; for they must not be risked during the whole of your journey.  You will find me waiting for you there on the wharf; my face, voice, and clothes will be so changed you cannot recognize me, but I shall say to you, ‘Are you a guepin?’ and you will answer, ‘Ready to serve.’  As to the performance of your mission, these are the means:  You will find a horse at the ’Pinte Fleurie,” close to Saint-Germain l’Auxerrois.  You will there ask for Jean le Breton, who will take you to the stable and give you one of my ponies which is known to do thirty leagues in eight hours.  Leave by the gate of Bussy.  Breton has a pass for me; use it yourself, and make your way by skirting the towns.  You can thus reach Orleans by daybreak.”

“But the horse?” said young Lecamus.

“He will not give out till you reach Orleans,” replied La Renaudie.  “Leave him at the entrance of the faubourg Bannier; for the gates are well guarded, and you must not excite suspicion.  It is for you, friend, to play your part intelligently.  You must invent whatever fable seems to you best to reach the third house to the left on entering Orleans; it belongs to a certain Tourillon, glove-maker.  Strike three blows on the door, and call out:  ’On service from Messieurs de Guise!’ The man will appear to be a rabid Guisist; no one knows but our four selves that he is one of us.  He will give you a faithful boatman,—­another Guisist of his own cut.  Go down at once to the wharf, and embark in a boat painted green and edged with white.  You will doubtless land at Beaugency to-morrow about mid-day.  There I will arrange to find you a boat which will take you to Blois without running any risk.  Our enemies the Guises do not watch the rivers, only the landings.  Thus you will be able to see the queen-mother to-morrow or the day after.”

“Your words are written there,” said Christophe, touching his forehead.

Chaudieu embraced his child with singular religious effusion; he was proud of him.

“God keep thee!” he said, pointing to the ruddy light of the sinking sun, which was touching the old roofs covered with shingles and sending its gleams slantwise through the forest of piles among which the water was rippling.

“You belong to the race of the Jacques Bonhomme,” said La Renaudie, pressing Christophe’s hand.

“We shall meet again, monsieur,” said the prince, with a gesture of infinite grace, in which there was something that seemed almost friendship.