"The marquisate of Bois-Doré," he said, "is a jest which the old man takes very seriously, and he persists in forcing upon everybody his absurd passion for the late king." "The late king had some good qualities," rejoined Condé, who considered that the rector went too far, "and this old creature of whom we are talking was not one of his worst creatures. He squandered all his property in absurd finery; he cannot have anything left. He never goes to Paris now, he never appears at Bourges, he lives in a hole. He has an old chariot of the time of the League and a castle wherein I should be ashamed to quarter my dogs. He has laid out gardens where all the statues are of plaster; all this smells of mediocrity." "These are details with which I did not supply monseigneur," said the rector to himself. "He has been making inquiries, he has nibbled at the bait.--It is true," he said aloud, "that our man is only a petty provincial nobleman. He is known to have about twenty-five thousand crowns of visible income, and people are justly surprised that he spends sixty thousand without running into debt and without leaving his estate." "Can it be that the Abbey of Fontgombaud still holds out?" said the prince with a smile. "But how do you know, monsieur l'abbé, that this horn of plenty exists at the manor of Briantes?" "I know it from a very devout young woman who has seen reliquaries and chapel ornaments of great value there. A certain child's bed, all of carved ivory, is a _chef-d'œuvre_, surmounted by a canopy----" "Bah! bah!" said the prince, "some old woman's tale! We will look into this matter if you insist, for the honor and welfare of the church, monsieur l'abbé; but it is not a matter of great urgency. I must leave you; but I would like first to know if I cannot serve you in any way. Your archbishop is a very good friend of nine; it was I who procured his translation. Do you desire a better living? I can speak to him of you." "I desire none of the advantages of this world," the rector replied as he took his leave. "I consider myself well placed wherever I can labor for my salvation and pray for your highness's happiness." "That is to say," thought the prince as soon as he was alone, "the Bois-Doré's coffers are still full; otherwise this ambitious fellow would have asked me first for his reward. He knows that I shall be satisfied with the result, and he will ask me for more than I have offered him. We shall see." And the prince issued his orders. On the evening of that same day, the dwellers at Briantes had just wished one another good-night, and were about to separate, when Aristandre, who was gatekeeper, sent word that a nobleman and his retinue desired shelter and an opportunity to rest for a couple of hours. It was raining and was very dark. The marquis called for a light, and, wrapping himself in his cloak, went out in person to order the portcullis raised. "We are----" began an unfamiliar voice.