“Nothing worse than that?” said the other, smiling blandly. “Well, well, that is not of so much moment. Take this,” said he, handing him his purse; “buy yourself a new doublet, and wait on me to-morrow by eleven.” With these words the stranger disappeared in a calèche, which seemed to arrive at the moment, leaving Frank in a state of wonderment at the whole adventure. “How droll he should never have told me where he lives!” said he, aloud, as the bystanders crowded about him, and showered questions upon him. “It is Monsieur le Ministre, man--M. de Louvois himself, whose life you’ve saved. Your fortune is made for ever.” The speech was a true one. Before three months from that eventful day, M. de Louvois, who had observed and noted down certain traits of acuteness in Frank’s character, sent for him to his _bureau_. “Holbein,” said he, “I have seldom been deceived in my opinion of men-- you can be secret, I think.” Frank placed his hand upon his breast, and bowed in silence. “Take the dress you will find on that chair: a carriage is now ready, waiting in the court-yard--get into it, and set out for Bâle. On your arrival there, which will be--mark me well--about eight o’clock on the morning of Thursday, you’ll leave the carriage, and send it into the town, while you must station yourself on the bridge over the Rhine, and take an exact note of everything that occurs, and every one that passes, till the cathedral clock strikes three. Then, the calèche will be in readiness for your return; and lose not a moment in repairing to Paris.” It was an hour beyond midnight, in the early part of the following week, that a calèche, travel-stained and dirty, drove into the court of the minister’s hotel, and five minutes after, Frank, wearied and exhausted, was ushered into M. de Louvois’ presence. “Well, Monsieur,” said he impatiently, “what have you seen?” “This, may it please your Excellency,” said Frank, trembling, “is a note of it; but I am ashamed that so trivial an account----” “Let us see--let us see,” said the minister. “In good truth, I dare scarcely venture to read such a puerile detail.” “Read it at once, Monsieur,” was the stern command. Frank’s face became deep-red with shame, as he began thus:-- “Nine o’clock.--I see an ass coming along, with a child leading him. The ass is blind of one eye.--A fat German sits on the balcony, and is spitting into the Rhine----” “Ten.--A livery servant from Bâle rides by, with a basket. An old peasant in a yellow doublet----” “Ah, what of him? “Nothing remarkable, save that he leans over the rails, and strikes three blows with his stick upon them. “Enough, enough,” said M. de Louvois, gaily. “I must awake the king at once.” The minister disappeared, leaving Frank in a state of bewilderment. In less than a quarter of an hour he entered the chamber, his face covered with smiles.