"Are all those persons to take part in the inquiry?" he said to the

king.
Louis XI. could not help smiling as he saw the fright of the miser and

his sister.
"No, my old crony," he said; "don't worry yourself. They will sup at

Plessis, and you and I alone will make the investigation. I am so good
in detecting criminals, that I will wager you ten thousand crowns I

shall do so now."
"Find him, sire, and make no wager."

They went at once into the strong room, where the Fleming kept his
treasure. There Louis, who asked to see, in the first place, the

casket from which the jewels of the Duke of Burgundy had been taken,
then the chimney down which the robber was supposed to have descended,

easily convinced his silversmith of the falsity of the latter
supposition, inasmuch as there was no soot on the hearth,--where, in

truth, a fire was seldom made,--and no sign that any one had passed
down the flue; and moreover that the chimney issued at a part of the

roof which was almost inaccessible. At last, after two hours of close
investigation, marked with that sagacity which distinguished the

suspicious mind of Louis XI., it was clear to him, beyond all doubt,
that no one had forced an entrance into the strong-room of his

silversmith. No marks of violence were on the locks, nor on the iron
coffers which contained the gold, silver, and jewels deposited as

securities by wealthy debtors.
"If the robber opened this box," said the king, why did he take

nothing out of it but the jewels of the Duke of Bavaria? What reason
had he for leaving that pearl necklace which lay beside them? A queer

robber!"
At that remark the unhappy miser turned pale: he and the king looked

at each other for a moment.
"Then, sire, what did that robber whom you have taken under your

protection come to do here, and why did he prowl about at night?"
"If you have not guessed why, my crony, I order you to remain in

ignorance. That is one of my secrets."
"Then the devil is in my house!" cried the miser, piteously.

In any other circumstances the king would have laughed at his
silversmith's cry; but he had suddenly become thoughtful, and was

casting on the Fleming those glances peculiar to men of talent and
power which seem to penetrate the brain. Cornelius was frightened,

thinking he had in some way offended his dangerous master.
"Devil or angel, I have him, the guilty man!" cried Louis XI.

abruptly. "If you are robbed again to-night, I shall know to-morrow
who did it. Make that old hag you call your sister come here," he

added.
Cornelius almost hesitated to leave the king alone in the room with

his hoards; but the bitter smile on Louis's withered lips determined
him. Nevertheless he hurried back, followed by the old woman.

"Have you any flour?" demanded the king.
"Oh yes; we have laid in our stock for the winter," she answered.

"Well, go and fetch some," said the king.
"What do you want to do with our flour, sire?" she cried, not the

least impressed by his royal majesty.
"Old fool!" said Cornelius, "go and execute the orders of our gracious

master. Shall the king lack flour?"
"Our good flour!" she grumbled, as she went downstairs. "Ah! my

flour!"
Then she returned, and said to the king:--

"Sire, is it only a royal notion to examine my flour?"
At last she reappeared, bearing one of those stout linen bags which,

from time immemorial, have been used in Touraine to carry or bring, to
and from market, nuts, fruits, or wheat. The bag was half full of

flour. The housekeeper opened it and showed it to the king, on whom
she cast the rapid, savage look with which old maids appear to squirt

venom upon men.
"It costs six sous the 'septeree,'" she said.

"What does that matter?" said the king. "Spread it on the floor; but
be careful to make an even layer of it--as if it had fallen like

snow."
The old maid did not comprehend. This proposal astonished her as

though the end of the world had come.
"My flour, sire! on the ground! But--"

Maitre Cornelius, who was beginning to understand, though vaguely, the
intentions of the king, seized the bag and gently poured its contents

on the floor. The old woman quivered, but she held out her hand for
the empty bag, and when her brother gave it back to her she

disappeared with a heavy sigh.
Cornelius then took a feather broom and gently smoothed the flour till

it looked like a fall of snow, retreating step by step as he did so,
followed by the king, who seemed much amused by the operation. When

they reached the door Louis XI. said to his silversmith, "Are there
two keys to the lock?"

"No, sire."
The king then examined the structure of the door, which was braced

with large plates and bars of iron, all of which converged to a secret
lock, the key of which was kept by Cornelius.

After examining everything, the king sent for Tristan, and ordered him
to post several of his men for the night, and with the greatest

secrecy, in the mulberry trees on the embankment and on the roofs of
the adjoining houses, and to assemble at once the rest of his men and

escort him back to Plessis, so as to give the idea in the town that he
himself would not sup with Cornelius. Next, he told the miser to close

his windows with the utmost care, that no single ray of light should
escape from the house, and then he departed with much pomp for Plessis

along the embankment; but there he secretly left his escort, and
returned by a door in the ramparts to the house of the torconnier. All

these precautions were so well taken that the people of Tours really
thought the king had returned to Plessis, and would sup on the morrow

with Cornelius.
Towards eight o'clock that evening, as the king was supping with his

physician, Cornelius, and the captain of his guard, and holding much
jovial converse, forgetting for the time being that he was ill and in

danger of death, the deepest silence reigned without, and all passers,
even the wariest robber, would have believed that the Malemaison was

occupied as usual.
"I hope," said the king, laughing, "that my silversmith shall be

robbed to-night, so that my curiosity may be satisfied. Therefore,
messieurs, no one is to leave his chamber to-morrow morning without my

order, under pain of grievous punishment."
Thereupon, all went to bed. The next morning, Louis XI. was the first

to leave his apartment, and he went at once to the door of the strong-
room. He was not a little astonished to see, as he went along, the

marks of a large foot along the stairways and corridors of the house.
Carefully avoiding those precious footprints, he followed them to the

door of the treasure-room, which he found locked without a sign of
fracture or defacement. Then he studied the direction of the steps;

but as they grew gradually fainter, they finally left not the
slightest trace, and it was impossible for him to discover where the

robber had fled.
"Ho, crony!" called out the king, "you have been finely robbed this

time."
At these words the old Fleming hurried out of his chamber, visibly

terrified. Louis XI. made him look at the foot-prints on the stairs
and corridors, and while examining them himself for the second time,

the king chanced to observe the miser's slippers and recognized the
type of sole that was printed in flour on the corridors. He said not a

word, and checked his laughter, remembering the innocent men who had
been hanged for the crime. The miser now hurried to his treasure. Once