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"Sire, the affair is settled."



"What! is it all over?" said the king.

"Our man is in the hands of the monks. He confessed the theft after a



touch of the 'question.'"

The countess gave a sign, and turned pale; she could not speak, but



looked at the king. That look was observed by Saint-Vallier, who

muttered in a low tone: "I am betrayed; that thief is an acquaintance



of my wife."

"Silence!" cried the king. "Some one is here who will wear out my



patience. Go at once and put a stop to the execution," he continued,

addressing the grand provost. "You will answer with your own body for



that of the criminal, my friend. This affair must be better sifted,

and I reserve to myself the doing of it. Set the prisoner at liberty



provisionally; I can always recover him; these robbers have retreats

they frequent, lairs where they lurk. Let Cornelius know that I shall



be at his house to-night to begin the inquiry myself. Monsieur de

Saint-Vallier," said the king, looking fixedly at the count, "I know



about you. All your blood could not pay for one drop of mine; do you

hear me? By our Lady of Clery! you have committed crimes of lese-



majesty. Did I give you such a pretty wife to make her pale and

weakly? Go back to your own house, and make your preparations for a



long journey."

The king stopped at these words from a habit of cruelty; then he



added:--

"You will leave to-night to attend to my affairs with the government



of Venice. You need be under no anxiety about your wife; I shall take

charge of her at Plessis; she will certainly be safe here. Henceforth



I shall watch over her with greater care than I have done since I

married her to you."



Hearing these words, Marie silently pressed her father's arm as if to

thank him for his mercy and goodness. As for Louis XI., he was



laughing to himself in his sleeve.

CHAPTER IV



THE HIDDEN TREASURE

Louis XI. was fond of intervening in the affairs of his subjects, and



he was always ready to mingle his royal majesty with the burgher life.

This taste, severely blamed by some historians, was really only a



passion for the "incognito," one of the greatest pleasures of princes,

--a sort of momentary abdication, which enables them to put a little



real life into their existence, made insipid by the lack of

opposition. Louis XI., however, played the incognito openly. On these



occasions he was always the good fellow, endeavoring to please the

people of the middle classes, whom he made his allies against



feudality. For some time past he had found no opportunity to "make

himself populace" and espouse the domestic interests of some man



"engarrie" (an old word still used in Tours, meaning engaged) in

litigious affairs, so that he shouldered the anxieties of Maitre



Cornelius eagerly, and also the secret sorrows of the Comtesse de

Saint-Vallier. Several times during dinner he said to his daughter:--



"Who, think you, could have robbed my silversmith? The robberies now

amount to over twelve hundred thousand crowns in eight years. Twelve



hundred thousand crowns, messieurs!" he continued, looking at the

seigneurs who were serving him. "Notre Dame! with a sum like that what



absolutions could be bought in Rome! And I might, Pasques-Dieu! bank

the Loire, or, better still, conquer Piedmont, a fine fortification



ready-made for this kingdom."

When dinner was over, Louis XI. took his daughter, his doctor, and the



grand provost, with an escort of soldiers, and rode to the hotel de

Poitiers in Tours, where he found, as he expected, the Comte de Saint-



Vallier awaiting his wife, perhaps to make away with her life.

"Monsieur," said the king, "I told you to start at once. Say farewell



to your wife now, and go to the frontier; you will be accompanied by

an escort of honor. As for your instructions and credentials, they



will be in Venice before you get there."

Louis then gave the order--not without adding certain secret



instructions--to a lieutenant of the Scottish guard to take a squad of

men and accompany the ambassador to Venice. Saint-Vallier departed in



haste, after giving his wife a cold kiss which he would fain have made

deadly. Louis XI. then crossed over to the Malemaison, eager to begin



the unravelling of the melancholycomedy, lasting now for eight years,

in the house of his silversmith; flattering himself that, in his



quality of king, he had enough penetration to discover the secret of

the robberies. Cornelius did not see the arrival of the escort of his



royal master without uneasiness.




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