"Dear Mister St. Megrin, The Chiefs of the League in
Our house mean to dine This evening at nine;
I shall, soon after ten, Slip away from the men,
And you'll find me upstairs in the drawing-room then;
Come up the back way, or those impudent thieves
Of servants will see you; Yours
CATHERINE OF CLEVES."

She directed and sealed it, all pale as a ghost,
And De Guise put it into the Twopenny Post.
St. Megrin had almost jumped out of his skin
For joy that day when the post came in;
He read the note through Then began it anew,
And thought it almost too good news to be true.--
He clapp'd on his hat, And a hood over that,
With a cloak to disguise him, and make him look fat;
So great his impatience, from half after Four,
He was waiting till Ten at De Guise's backdoor.
When he heard the great clock of St. Genevieve chime,
He ran up the back staircase six steps at a time,
He had scarce made his bow, He hardly knew how,
When alas! and alack! There was no getting back,
For the drawing-room door was bang'd to with a whack;--

In vain he applied To the handle and tried,
Somebody or other had locked it outside!
And the Duchess in agony mourn'd her mishap:
"We are caught like a couple of rats in a trap."