Villequier looked in his face with a meaning and somewhat sarcastic smile: then turned to the note which the Queen-mother, Catharine de Medici, had sent him; read it over again as if carelessly, but marking every word as he did so; and then said, with somewhat of a sigh, "Well, Monsieur de Boisguerin, pray draw up on that paper what you think would be required." The Abbé took up the pen and ink, and wrote rapidly for a moment or two; while Villequier looked over his shoulder, fingering the hilt of his dagger as he did so, in a manner which might have made the periods of any man but the Abbé de Boisguerin, who knew as he did his companion's habits and views, less rounded and eloquent than they usually were. The Abbé, however, wrote on without the slightest sign of apprehension, and at length Villequier exclaimed, "That would tie my hands sufficiently tight, Monsieur de Boisguerin." "Not quite, my Lord," replied the other. "I never make a covenant without a penalty; and what I am now going to add provides that, in case of your failing to confirm my decision, or attempting in any way to rescind this paper and the power hereby given to me, you forfeit to my use and benefit one hundred thousand golden crowns, to be sued for from you in any lawful court of this kingdom." "Nay, nay, nay!" cried Villequier, now absolutely laughing. "This is going too far, Monsieur de Boisguerin." "Faith, not a whit, my Lord," replied the Abbé. "I take care when men make me promises, that they are not such as can be trifled with, at least if I am to act upon them." "Why, you do not suppose----" exclaimed Villequier. "I suppose nothing, my Lord," interrupted the Abbé, "but that you are a statesman and a courtier, and must in your day have seen more than one promise broken." "By some millions," replied Villequier. "I told you to speak frankly, Monsieur de Boisguerin, and you have done so with a vengeance. I must have my turn, too, and tell you that neither to you nor any other man on earth will I give such a promise, without in the first place seeing a probability of the object for which it is given being accomplished, and, in fact, some steps taken towards the accomplishment of that object; and, in the next place, without having a distinct notion of the means by which it is to effect its end. That is a beautiful ring of yours," continued the statesman, suddenly breaking away from the subject as if to announce that what he had just said was final, but perhaps in reality to consider what was to be the next step. "That is a beautiful ring of yours, Monsieur de Boisguerin, and of some very peculiar stone it seems; a large turquoise semi-transparent." "It is an antidote against all poisons," answered the Abbé coolly, "whether they be eaten in the savoury ragout, drunk in the racy cup, smelt in the odour of a sweet flower, or inhaled in the balmy air of some well-prepared apartment. My dear friends will not find me so tender a lamb as Jeanne d'Albret."