This is the first novel by which Mr. Weyman won his great reputation. It is a tale of France during the religious wars of the sixteenth century, and has long ranked as one of the most brilliant historical romances of our day.
gdom of Heaven by force!' and those were the last words I heard; for, as I lifted the latch--there was no one on guard there--a sudden swift silence fell upon the room behind me.
I pushed the door gently open and went in. There were two men sitting in one of the windows, who turned and looked angrily towards me. For the rest the room was empty. The king's walking-shoes lay by his chair, and beside them the boot-hooks and jack. A dog before the fire got up slowly and growled, and one of the men, rising from the trunk on which he had been sitting, came towards me and asked me, with every sign of irritation, what I wanted there, and who had given me leave to enter.
I was beginning to explain, with some diffidence the stillness of the room sobering me--that I wished to see the king, when he who had advanced took me up sharply with, 'The king? the king? He is not here, man. He is hunting at St. Valery. Did they not tell you so outside?'
I thought I recognised the speaker, than whom I have seld