noon
My misery was so intense that I cared nothing about my own fate . Coligny was dead ; I had seen Felix killed before my eyes ; most of the gallant gentlemen who had been my true and loyal comrades were slain -- what mattered it whether I lived or died ? Strangely enough , perhaps , I did not even ask myself how I had escaped the awful butchery . Shortly after noon , the door was opened , and some one entered the room . I expected to see a ruffian with a blood-red pike ; my visitor was a pale but pretty woman , carrying a bowl of soup . `` Drink this , monsieur , '' she said , `` it will give you strength . Renaud will return in the evening . ''