"Till the show is over most likely. The citizens love a pretty spectacle, no matter who provides it."

Round after round of cheering announced the approach of the procession, which was on the most magnificent scale. After a body of trumpeters came fifty guides clothed in the Royal livery, and then eight hundred gorgeously dressed n.o.bles on horseback.

I felt a pa.s.sing pang of envy at sight of the n.o.bleman who led the Light Horse. His robe was of gold embroidery, and he carried his sword in a baldrick of pearls. In his hat waved a splendid plume of feathers, and the trappings of his white horse were of scarlet adorned with pearls. The spectators could not contain themselves, but clapped their hands and cried "Bravo!" vigorously.

After the Light Horse came the Hundred Swiss in their romantic costume, and then a crowd of gentlemen, followed by the marshals of France--one carrying the King's sword, with the scabbard resting on his arm. Then a thundering roar broke out, and the people appeared beside themselves with delight.

"Live the King!" they cried. "G.o.d bless him!" "G.o.d save his Majesty!"

I craned my neck as eagerly as any other sightseer, as our youthful monarch approached. He was truly a handsome boy, and managed his fiery horse with the grace and skill of an accomplished rider.

"What a King he will be!" exclaimed one bystander. "He will bring back the glory to our country. _Vive le Roi! Vive le Roi!_" and again there was an outburst of cheering.

No one paid any attention to the princes and n.o.bles following him; all the cheers were for the King and the King alone.

I observed Raoul ride by, and presently John Humphreys appeared with the guards who surrounded the Queen's carriage. Raoul was smiling, for, like a true Parisian, he enjoyed a pretty show, but the Englishman strode along as if he had a mind to be done with the business. Just as he was on a level with me I received a great surprise. On the other side of the road a little man had pushed himself right into the front line of spectators, and was gazing anxiously up and down as if expecting to recognise some one.

"Why, surely," I said, half aloud, "that is my old acquaintance, Pillot!" and, looking a second time I became sure of it.

The dwarf seemed ill at ease, and altogether unlike his usual self.

His face, too, was white and pinched, as if he had been suffering from a severe illness.

"_Parbleu!_" I muttered, "one would not think he had but just returned from the country! Perhaps he missed the air of Paris! Anyhow, I am glad he is back, as now I shall learn the truth as to my cousin's death. When the procession is gone by I will beckon to him to come over."

At that moment Pillot caught sight of me; he became more nervous than before, and to my astonishment instantly began edging back into the crowd till he was lost to view. Now this curious behaviour set me thinking. Why should Pillot endeavour to get out of my way? Was he afraid that I should hand him over to Conde? Certainly he had been mixed up in the plot, but so had Pierre and Francois, and the prince had not thought it worth while to imprison either of them.

"There is some mystery about this which I must look into!" I muttered.

"Pillot is not the man to slink away without reason."

For the time, however, I could do nothing, but as soon as the King returned to the Palais Royal I began an eager but unavailing search for the dwarf. He had disappeared completely, and there was no trace of him anywhere.

In the evening Raoul and John Humphreys met at my rooms and I informed them of my discovery. The Englishman thought little of it, saying Pillot was likely to keep out of my way, but Raoul, like myself, fancied he had some reason for his strange behaviour.

"The fellow isn't afraid for himself," he declared. "He knows Conde will not touch him, and besides, he is a plucky rascal. Depend on it, there is something beneath this business, and I should guess it has to do with Henri de Lalande."

"But my cousin is dead and buried!" I objected.

"Chut! You have no proof of it. He may be in hiding for what we know, and waiting his opportunity. According to all accounts, he will soon have little to fear from Conde."

"The prince is lost," exclaimed Humphreys. "Did you notice he stayed away to-day? It is rumoured in the palace that the Queen is furious, and that there is to be no more giving quarter. Conde will be an outlaw before long."

"And it is my belief," remarked Raoul, "that when Conde goes, Henri will reappear. Still, if you wish, Albert, we will help you to find Pillot."

"The worst of it is I have not the faintest idea where to look."

"We can try the house in the Rue de Roi."

"The walk will do us good," said Humphreys, "and I am off duty till midnight;" so, putting on our hats, we went into the street.

Paris was holding high holiday that evening. The buildings were decorated with flags and streamers; bonfires cast a lurid light on the animated scene; crowds of people went to and fro, laughing merrily and cheering the n.o.bles and ladies who rode by in their gorgeous carriages.

The spell of the morning was on them all; and though many realised that the troubles would soon break out more fiercely than ever, every one seemed bent on making the most of the brief truce.

"You Parisians are a remarkable set!" exclaimed Humphreys as we walked along; "I believe you would dance on the edge of a mine."

"Till the explosion occurred!" laughed Raoul. "Did you notice the folks in that carriage, Albert? One was your friend Lautrec; he still follows Conde's fortunes. Ah! there goes Marshal Turenne!"

"A fine general!" remarked Humphreys. "Why doesn't the Queen give him the command of the army? He would make short work of Conde."

"Wait till the prince draws the sword," said Raoul, "and we shall see.

Have you forgotten that at present we are all friends?"

The Englishman declared it was scarcely worth remembering, as, in a day or two, we were just as likely to be enemies, and I thought there was a considerable amount of truth in his remark.

We wandered along slowly, chatting together, but scanning the faces of the pa.s.sers-by and keeping a sharp look-out for Pillot. There was, however, no sign of him, and I had just suggested going straight to the inn, when Raoul, suddenly taking a man by the arm, exclaimed, "Francois? How lucky! Why, you are just the fellow we want!" and turning round I saw that he was addressing the amiable spy of the Rue Crillon.

Francois gazed at us with a beaming smile. He was not a bad-hearted fellow, and bore no malice in spite of all that had pa.s.sed.

"Where are your friends?" asked Raoul. "You should not be alone on such a night as this. Where have you left Pillot?"

"Pillot?" echoed Francois wonderingly. "I have not seen him for weeks; he is in the country somewhere."

"Oh, now, Francois, you are making fun of us! We know that our friend Pillot is in Paris."

"Monsieur is wiser than I, then!" replied Francois. "They say, down in our quarter, that he went to bury his master and has not returned. I a.s.sure monsieur that not one of his old friends has set eyes on him for a long time past."

The man spoke so straightforwardly that even Raoul believed he was telling the truth, though it seemed strange, if Pillot were really back again, that none of his acquaintances should be aware of it. Why had he kept himself hidden all this time?

"We want to find him," said Raoul after a pause, "but not to do him any injury. Suppose he has returned to Paris--if he ever went away--where is he most likely to be? I a.s.sure you, Francois, that he has nothing to fear from us."

"I cannot tell, monsieur. I think you must have made a mistake. If he were inside the walls I should have seen him. He has not been back to any of his usual haunts."

Evidently there was no information to be obtained from Francois, so Raoul gave him some money and let him go.

"Perhaps the fellow was right in saying you had made a mistake,"

remarked Humphreys, but this I would not admit. Not only had I seen Pillot, but he had recognised me.

"Let us try at La Boule d'Or," Raoul suggested, "and, if that is useless, we will not bother any further. After all, it really is of small consequence one way or the other."

The famous inn was crowded as usual, but Raoul conducted us to a private room, where, in a few minutes, we were joined by the landlord.

He remembered me immediately, and began to speak of the trick I had played on the dwarf.

"We have come to meet Pillot," interrupted Raoul playing a bold game; "tell him we are here."

"But, monsieur, it is impossible! He is not in my house. He has been here only once since monsieur tied him up. It would not be a safe place for him. Besides, I have heard that he is no longer in Paris.

Monsieur can search the place himself if he wishes. At the present, the inn is empty of guests. Two friends of the prince have been staying here, but they departed yesterday."

"And all your rooms are free?"

"That is so. Monsieur is at liberty to search the house."