"What murmur you, Sir?" demanded the Statesman. "Mark me! in one hour from hence you will find a priest and two witnesses in the Cardinal's chapel! When you are married, the priest will give you a certificate of the ceremony, carry it to my intendant, and upon the sight of it he will pay you the sum we agree upon. Now, proceed with your demands." "Well then, Monseigneur," continued Marteville, "what is the information concerning Mademoiselle's coming to Paris worth?" "It is worth a good deal," replied Chavigni, "and I will always pay more for knowledge of that kind than any acts of brute force. Set that down for a hundred crowns, and fifty more for catching the young lady, and bringing her here; making altogether two hundred and fifty." "Yes, Sir, yes; but the _dot_--the dowry you mentioned," cried the Norman. "You have forgot that." "No, I have not," replied Chavigni. "In favour of Louise, I will make the sum up one thousand crowns, which you will receive the moment you have married her." "Oh! I'll marry her directly, if that be the case," cried the Norman. "_Morbleu!_ that makes all the difference." "But treat her kindly," said Chavigni. "With the stipend of a thousand crowns, which I allow you yearly, and what you can gain by particular services, you may live very well; and perhaps I may add some little gratification, if you please me in your conduct towards your wife." "Oh! I'll be the tenderest husband living," cried the Norman, "since my gratification depends upon her's. But I'll run and fetch her to be married directly, if you will send the Priest, Monseigneur." "Nay, stop a moment," said the Statesman. "You forget that I told you I had other journeys for you to take, and other services for you to perform." "No, Sir," answered the Norman, "all is prepared to set out this very night, if you will tell me my errand." Chavigni paused for a moment, and remained in deep thought, gnawing his lip as if embarrassed by doubts as to the best manner of proceeding. "Mark me, Marteville," said he at length: "there are two or three sorts of scoundrels in the world, amongst whom I do not look upon you as the least." The Norman bowed with the utmost composure, very well aware of the place he held in Chavigni's opinion. "There are, however, some good points about you," continued the Statesman; at which Marteville bowed again. "You would rob, kill, and plunder, I believe, without remorse, any one you hated or did not care about; but I do not think you would forget a kindness or betray a trust." "Never!" said the Norman: "red-hot pincers will not tear from me what is intrusted to my honour."