The following Saturday, the Bretons won the town of Pontoise, at break of day, as Enguerrand the chronicler has simply told it; but I find in Gaguin, that one named Louis Forbier, then lieutenant-governor of Pontoise for Joachim Rohault, by false and wicked treason, conspired against his sovereign, and admitted these Bretons into the town. The said Louis had it proclaimed, that all of the company of Joachim Rohault, who would not remain, might leave the town in safety with their baggage: that, immediately on his giving up the place, he and some of his companions went to Meulan,[82] wearing the king's badge of the white cross, that they might gain admittance without difficulty. But before his arrival, those in Meulan had been informed of his treason,--and the moment he was seen from the battlements by the garrison, already under arms, they cried out to him, 'Go thy ways, for a false and disloyal traitor!' and fired some cannon at him, which forced him to retire with disgrace and shame. The ensuing Monday, a considerable body of the enemy, by way of a morning visit, appeared at an early hour before the gate of St Anthony; but in consequence of the firing of some artillery from the walls, they retreated to a further distance, and nothing was done. On the Monday, according to Gaguin, the watch in Paris were alarmed by an extraordinary light in the skies that looked like a comet, and seemed to move from the enemy's quarters, and to fall into the ditch near the hôtel d'Ardoise: not guessing what it could be, they thought it might have been a rocket discharged by the Burgundians, and sent immediate information thereof to the king at his hôtel of the Tournelles. He, like an active prince, mounted his horse, and went instantly on the walls, near to the hôtel d'Ardoise, where he staid some time, and sent to all the quarters of Paris, to put them on their guard; but they neither saw nor heard any thing further of the enemy that night. The Bretons and Burgundians, quartered near Paris, made many songs, and scandalous ballads, on those in whom the king put most confidence, that he might be displeased with and dismiss them from his service, for the more easy accomplishment of their damnable designs. One evening, about two o'clock after midnight, master John Balue, bishop of Evreux, was waylaid in the street of Barre-du-Bec, and attacked with swords and staves,--so that, being wounded, he was forced to fly, and sticking spurs into his mule, she ran away with him, like a wild thing, and never stopped until she brought him to his house, in the cloisters of Nôtre Dame, whence he had set out. The king was very angry on hearing this, and ordered inquiry to be made after the perpetrators of the deed, but in vain; for it was not known who had done it, although it was said, some time afterward, that the lord de Villier-le-bôcage was the principal, at the request of one called Jeanne du Bois, with whom he was enamoured.