They were young nobles who had spent the night feasting at the Palace, and, drunk with wine and mad with excitement, had left the Louvre at daybreak to rouse the city.

"A Jarnac! A Jarnac!" they cried, and some saluted Count Hannibal as they passed.

And so, shouting and spurring and following their leader, they swept away down the now empty street, carrying terror and a flame wherever their horses bore them that morning.
Tavannes, his hands on the ledge of the shattered window, leaned out laughing, and followed them with his eyes.

A moment, and the mob was gone, the street was empty; and one by one, with sheepish faces, his pikemen emerged from the doorways and alleys in which they had taken refuge.

They gathered about the three huddled forms which lay prone and still in the gutter: or, not three--two.