XI. made a sign. Marie appeared, followed by her old husband, who
allowed her to pass in first.

"Good-day, my children," said the king.
"Sire," replied his daughter in a low voice, as she embraced him, "I

want to speak to you in secret."
Louis XI. appeared not to have heard her. He turned to the door and

called out in a hollow voice, "Hola, Dufou!"
Dufou, seigneur of Montbazon and grand cup-bearer of France, entered

in haste.
"Go to the maitre d'hotel, and tell him I must have salt mackerel for

dinner. And go to Madame de Beaujeu, and let her know that I wish to
dine alone to-day. Do you know, madame," continued the king,

pretending to be slightly angry, "that you neglect me? It is almost
three years since I have seen you. Come, come here, my pretty," he

added, sitting down and holding out his arms to her. "How thin you
have grown! Why have you let her grow so thin?" said the king,

roughly, addressing the Comte de Poitiers.
The jealous husband cast so frightened a look at his wife that she

almost pitied him.
"Happiness, sire!" he stammered.

"Ah! you love each other too much,--is that it?" said the king,
holding his daughter between his knees. "I did right to call you Mary-

full-of-grace. Coyctier, leave us! Now, then, what do you want of me?"
he said to his daughter the moment the doctor had gone. "After sending

me your--"
In this danger, Marie boldly put her hand on the king's lips and said

in his ear,--
"I always thought you cautious and penetrating."

"Saint-Vallier," said the king, laughing, "I think that Bridore has
something to say to you."

The count left the room; but he made a gesture with his shoulders well
known to his wife, who could guess the thoughts of the jealous man,

and knew she must forestall his cruel designs.
"Tell me, my child, how do you think I am,--hey? Do I seem changed to

you?"
"Sire, do you want me to tell you the real truth, or would you rather

I deceived you?"
"No," he said, in a low voice, "I want to know truly what to expect."

"In that case, I think you look very ill to-day; but you will not let
my truthfulness injure the success of my cause, will you?"

"What is your cause?" asked the king, frowning and passing a hand
across his forehead.

"Ah, sire," she replied, "the young man you have had arrested for
robbing your silversmith Cornelius, and who is now in the hands of the

grand provost, is innocent of the robbery."
"How do you know that?" asked the king. Marie lowered her head and

blushed.
"I need not ask if there is love in this business," said the king,

raising his daughter's head gently and stroking her chin. "If you
don't confess every morning, my daughter, you will go to hell."

"Cannot you oblige me without forcing me to tell my secret thoughts?"
"Where would be the pleasure?" cried the king, seeing only an

amusement in this affair.
"Ah! do you want your pleasure to cost me grief?"

"Oh! you sly little girl, haven't you any confidence in me?"
"Then, sire, set the young nobleman at liberty."

"So! he is a nobleman, is he?" cried the king. "Then he is not an
apprentice?"

"He is certainly innocent," she said.
"I don't see it so," said the king, coldly. "I am the law and justice

of my kingdom, and I must punish evil-doers."
"Come, don't put on that solemn face of yours! Give me the life of

that young man."
"Is it yours already?"

"Sire," she said, "I am pure and virtuous. You are jesting at--"
"Then," said Louis XI., interrupting her, "as I am not to know the

truth, I think Tristan had better clear it up."
Marie turned pale, but she made a violent effort and cried out:--

"Sire, I assure you, you will regret all this. The so-called thief
stole nothing. If you will grant me his pardon, I will tell you

everything, even though you may punish me."
"Ho, ho! this is getting serious," cried the king, shoving up his cap.

"Speak out, my daughter."
"Well," she said, in a low voice, putting her lips to her father's

ear, "he was in my room all night."
"He could be there, and yet rob Cornelius. Two robberies!"

"I have your blood in my veins, and I was not born to love a
scoundrel. That young seigneur is the nephew of the captain-general of

your archers."
"Well, well!" cried the king; "you are hard to confess."

With the words the king pushed his daughter from his knee, and hurried
to the door of the room, but softly on tiptoe, making no noise. For

the last moment or two, the light from a window in the adjoining hall,
shining through a space below the door, had shown him the shadow of a

listener's foot projected on the floor of his chamber. He opened the
door abruptly, and surprised the Comte de Saint-Vallier eavesdropping.

"Pasques-Dieu!" he cried; "here's an audacity that deserves the axe."
"Sire," replied Saint-Vallier, haughtily, "I would prefer an axe at my

throat to the ornament of marriage on my head."
"You may have both," said Louis XI. "None of you are safe from such

infirmities, messieurs. Go into the farther hall. Conyngham,"
continued the king, addressing the captain of the guard, "you are

asleep! Where is Monsieur de Bridore? Why do you let me be approached
in this way? Pasques-Dieu! the lowest burgher in Tours is better

served than I am."
After scolding thus, Louis re-entered his room; but he took care to

draw the tapestried curtain, which made a second door, intended more
to stifle the words of the king than the whistling of the harsh north

wind.
"So, my daughter," he said, liking to play with her as a cat plays

with a mouse, "Georges d'Estouteville was your lover last night?"
"Oh, no, sire!"

"No! Ah! by Saint-Carpion, he deserves to die. Did the scamp not think
my daughter beautiful?"

"Oh! that is not it," she said. "He kissed my feet and hands with an
ardor that might have touched the most virtuous of women. He loves me

truly in all honor."
"Do you take me for Saint-Louis, and suppose I should believe such

nonsense? A young fellow, made like him, to have risked his life just
to kiss your little slippers or your sleeves! Tell that to others."

"But, sire, it is true. And he came for another purpose."
Having said these words, Marie felt that she had risked the life of

her husband, for Louis instantly demanded:
"What purpose?"

The adventure amused him immensely. But he did not expect the strange
confidences his daughter now made to him after stipulating for the

pardon of her husband.
"Ho, ho, Monsieur de Saint-Vallier! So you dare to shed the royal

blood!" cried the king, his eyes lighting with anger.
At this moment the bell of Plessis sounded the hour of the king's

dinner. Leaning on the arm of his daughter, Louis XI. appeared with
contracted brows on the threshold of his chamber, and found all his

servitors in waiting. He cast an ambiguous look on the Comte de Saint-
Vallier, thinking of the sentence he meant to pronounce upon him. The

deep silence which reigned was presently broken by the steps of
Tristan l'Hermite as he mounted the grand staircase. The grand provost

entered the hall, and, advancing toward the king, said:--