'Having fixed on their plan, master Olivier solicited the lady to come that night to his lodgings, which she complied with, assuring herself that on the morrow she should obtain her husband's liberty; but she was deceived; for while master Olivier, was caressing her in bed, his valet de chambre Daniel, with another called Oyac, strangled the miserable gentleman in the provost's prison, and then dragged the body to the Seine. The corpse floated on the water, as they were unable to sink it. The boatmen drew it to the bank, where it lay the whole day, and was viewed by numbers, who immediately recognised it for the body of such a gentleman. The wife, who had risen early in the expectation of meeting her husband, was told that he had been drowned, and was then lying on the bank of the river. Thither she hastened and found the report but too true. 'This unfortunate lady flung herself on the corpse, and, with bitter tears, cursed Olivier le Daim, who had deceived her, and ravished her honour, under promise of procuring her husband's liberty. Her lamentations excited the pity of the populace in so great a decree that they informed the officers of justice of what had happened. On this, master Olivier was arrested, and sentenced to the torture; but without suffering much, he confessed the fact, imagining his judges would not dare to condemn him, and, if they should, he trusted to his favour with the king. He was, however, completely mistaken; for, being hated for his abuse of authority under Louis XI. he was sentenced to be hanged and strangled. His servant Daniel was condemned to make a pecuniary restitution to the widow. 'With regard to Oyac, he was not hanged, because it had appeared on the trial that he would not assist to strangle the gentleman in prison, although he had aided to throw him into the river; for which he was condemned to have his ears cut off, his tongue pierced, and to be banished the realm. 'Master Olivier was pitied by none: and it may be shown, from an infinity of examples, that a disgraceful or an unfortunate death is commonly the lot of such as put their trust in the favour of princes, abuse their authority, and only make use of their great riches in the commission of the most enormous crimes. God becomes tired of their iniquities, and commences even in this world to punish them for their wickednesses.' This crime may be nearly matched by that of another monster in our own country. Colonel Kirke, when pursuing the duke of Monmouth's partisans at Taunton, was guilty of an act attended with rather more insulting cruelty; and to him likewise may be applied the motto, 'Tel mâitre, tel valet.' There is also a similar story told in 491. of the Spectator; but it is not mentioned by Comines, or by any other historian of that period that I am acquainted with.] CHAP. XXVI.