"No, indeed; I am no such fool! I work alone, and I am the better for so doing. If I had had confederates, I should have been caught long ago! As you must know, in all ranks of society, a man is never betrayed, except by his own people. Come, my young gentleman, let us finish our business. I know that this street abounds in memories, and that it is well worth while to pause and consider it. A few steps from here, during the night of June 13, 1392, the Connétable Olivier de Clisson, coming from the Hôtel Saint-Pol, where he had supped with the king, was treacherously assaulted and murdered by Pierre de Craon, chamberlain and favorite of the Duc d'Orléans, brother of King Charles VI. By a most fortunate chance, Clisson wore a coat of mail under his clothes; he received more than sixty sword and knife thrusts which did not reach his body; but he was finally wounded in the head and thrown from his horse; he fell against the door of a baker's shop, which was ajar, and his assassins took flight." "Malpeste! Giovanni, so you know our history too!" said Léodgard, apparently taking pleasure in listening to the brigand. "And why not, signor? I have told you that I am the son of a _dottore_!--And that Rue des Francs-Bourgeois, which you have just left--I have been following you for some time, you see--that Rue des Francs-Bourgeois will always figure in your annals. There it was that two miserable wretches lived toward the close of the last century--two poor brothers, beggars, in short, who possessed the talent of imitating perfectly the baying of a pack of hounds and the notes of a number of hunting horns. Certain leaders of the League formed the plan of using those beggars to lead your King Henri IV into a trap, knowing his passion for the chase. One day when the king was enjoying that sport in the forest of Vincennes, the noise of a pack of hounds, of horns, and of hunters, very distant at first, suddenly drew near; a black man, forcing his way through the underbrush, appeared before Henri IV and said to him in an awe-inspiring voice: 'Did you hear me?'--But neither the king nor any one of his train ventured to follow that man, who, it is said, was to have hurled a lance at the king if he had tried to come up with him. And all this was the work of the Leaguers and of the two beggars from Rue des Francs-Bourgeois!" "By my faith, Master Giovanni, you have told me something that I did not know!--Pray go on; I see that one cannot fail to profit by your conversation." "I am extremely sorry, my young gentleman, but I can talk no longer. As I reminded you just now, the hastening night forces me to retire, for I know that my description is so well known that it is impossible for me to show myself by daylight in this costume."