The Forty-Five Guardsmen

quarter of an hour after, a guard of twenty Swiss, the favorite troops of Henri III., then king, passed through these barriers, which were a

om Montreuil, from Vincennes, and from St. Maur; and the crowd was growing more dense every moment. Monks from the convent in the neighborhood, women seated on pack-saddles, and peasa

ed by the Convent of the Jacobins, the Priory of Vincennes, and the Croix Faubin, as though they were expecting to see some one arrive. These groups consisted chiefly of bour

he stood upright, but at this moment his long legs were bent under him, and his arms, not less long in proportion, were crossed over his breast. He was leaning against the hedge, which almost hid his face, before which he also held up his ha

ound the scaffold of Salcede-100,000 at least. See, without counting those already on the Place de Greve, or wh

ton. "Be sure many people will follow my example, and not g

think so, monsieur?" continued he, turning to the long-ar

be nothing on the P

and that there will be t

mean that there will

he blows of the whip, which t

ere likely to be any, the king would not have had a stand

take place?" replied the other, shrug

man talks in a singular way.

N

him? You are wrong. I do n

ugh to be heard by the stranger, "that one of the

hom we know well,"

n brothers, as

he relationship is singularly loosened. Talk low

t you will reply, while the strange

e is lis

en you think, monsieur," continued he, turning

not s

believe you

ou found your sur

he kno

you two or three t

wer. Now, monsieur, I believe you agree with me, or els

ctacle would have been a joyful one to all friends of the king. Perhaps you will reply that you are not friends of the king; but of M

for my wife, Nicole Friard, who has gone to take twenty-four tablecloths to the priory

cried Miton, "at

saw them closing yet another door, while a party of Swiss p

tell you?"

ong murmur of astonishment and some crie

ad! Back!" cr

horseback tried to go back, and nearly crushed the crowd behind them. Women

aines!" cried a voice in

ton, trembling

where?" sa

d Miton tearing his hands by s

y. I see no opening, and you cannot cl

turned Miton, ma

a tone of distress; "your ass is on my feet. Oh,

trode over the hedge with as much ease as one might have leaped it on horseback. M. Miton imitated him at last after much detriment to his hands and clothes; but poor

round, "on the word of Jean Friard, you are a real Her

iquet-Robert Br

u. But apropos; mon Dieu! she will be stifled in thi

nd and seeing that it was a Swiss, he took to flight, followed by M

Lorraines

N

lose the door. I do

should," replied the Swis