The Chess of M. Chicot, and the Cup and Ball of M. Quelus.

Chicot returned joyfully to the Louvre. It was a great satisfaction to him to have saved a brave gentleman like Bussy.

M. de Guise, after having received in the morning the principal Leaguers, who came to bring him the registers filled with signatures, and after having made them all swear to recognize the chief that the king should appoint, went out to visit M. d’Anjou, whom he had lost sight of about ten the evening before. The duke found the prince’s valet rather unquiet at his master’s absence, but he imagined that he had slept at the Louvre.

The Due de Guise asked to speak to Aurilly, who was most likely to know where his master was. Aurilly came, but stated he had been separated from the prince the evening before by a pressure of the crowd, and had come to the H?tel d’Anjou to wait for him, not knowing that his highness had intended to sleep at the Louvre. He added that he had just sent to the Louvre to inquire, and that a message had been returned that the duke was still asleep.

“Asleep at eleven o’clock! not likely. You ought to go to the Louvre, Aurilly.”

“I did think of it, monseigneur, but I feared that this was only a tale invented to satisfy my messenger, and that the prince was seeking pleasure elsewhere, and might be annoyed at my seeking him.”

“Oh, no; the duke has too much sense to be pleasure-seeking on a day like this. Go to the Louvre; you will be sure to find him there.”

“I will if you wish it; but what shall I say to him?”

“Say that the convocation at the Louvre is fixed for two o’clock, and that it is necessary that we should have a conference first. It is not at the time when the king is about to choose a chief for the League that he should be sleeping.”

“Very well, monseigneur, I will beg his highness to come here.”

“And say that I am waiting impatiently for him. Meanwhile I will go and seek M. de Bussy.”

“But if I do not find his highness, what am I to do?”

“Then make no further search for him. In any event I shall be at the Louvre at a quarter before two.”

Aurilly passed through the courtiers who crowded the Louvre, and made his way to the duke’s apartments. At the door he found Chicot playing chess. Aurilly tried to pass, but Chicot, with his long legs blocked up the doorway. He was forced to touch him on the shoulder.

“Ah, it is you, M. Aurilly.”

“What are you doing, M. Chicot?”

“Playing chess, as you see.”

“All alone?”

“Yes, I am studying; do you play?”

“Very little.”

“Yes, I know you are a musician, and music is so difficult an art, that those who give themselves to it must sacrifice all their time.”

“You seem very serious over your game.”

“Yes, it is my king who disquiets me; you must know, M. Aurilly, that at chess the king is a very insignificant person, who has no will, who can only go one step forward or back, or one to the right or left, while he is surrounded by active enemies, by knights who jump three squares at a time, by a crowd of pawns who surround him, so that if he be badly counseled he is a ruined king in no time, ma foi.”

“But, M. Chicot, how does it happen that you are studying this at the door of his royal highness’ room?”

“Because I am waiting for M. Quelus, who is in there.”

“Where?”

“With his highness.”

“With his highness! What is he doing there? I did not think they were such friends.”

“Hush!” then he whispered in Aurilly’s ear “he is come to ask pardon of the duke for a little quarrel they had yesterday.”

“Really!”