bolt, and took a companion,
named Justin, armed with a helmet and a long-handled axe, with five or
six others." The gang, who evidently meant to make sure of their man,
met Houdetot in a street in Rouen; Tilleren fired his crossbow on
sight and shot him through the body; a piece of summary justice which
evidently appealed to the Canons of the Cathedral, in spite of the
fact that the sufferer was an ecclesiastic.

But in 1501 a gallant priest intervened in the most creditable manner,
and without any bloodshed, in a love-affair that should set all our
promising young historical novelists by the ears to tell it afresh.
There was a certain Jean de Boissey who was much in love with Marie de
Martainville. Her mother was not averse to a wedding, but the father
refused entirely. Luckily for Jean he was on excellent terms with the
lady's cousins, Philippe and Thomas de Martainville; so the three
friends with Pierre de Garsalle and other youthful sympathisers betook
them to the Abbey of St. Pierre-sur-Dives to talk it over. Jean found
an ally he could have hardly expected within the Abbey walls, for
Nicolle de Garsalle, a relation of one of his comrades and a brother
of the House, asked them all to stay to supper with him, and before
the porter let them out again he had arranged a plan for carrying off
the lady. The young men were delighted with this jovial monk's
suggestions, and the next morning the whole company met again with
seven or eight more ardent blades, and entered straightway into the
Manor where the lovely Marie dwelt. Cousin Philippe stayed outside and
kept watch at the drawbridge. In a short time--after adventures which
are discreetly concealed--Jean and his friends came out with the lady,
and the whole party made off to Caulde, where the betrothal was
solemnised. The next day they rode to Cambremer, and the happy pair
were married, "le sieur de Boissey," says the manuscript, "espousa sa
fiancee sans bans," and no doubt Brother Nicolle de Garsalle helped to
tie the knot. No less than sixteen persons being implicated in the
capital charge of abduction which followed, you may imagine how lively
the Procession of the Fierte was that year, and the cheers of the
populace as Jean de Boissey (begarlanded with roses, as all the
prisoners were) moved along, no doubt with Marie on his arm, and the
sturdy monk walked behind him from the Place de la Basse Vieille Tour
to the Cathedral. The de Martainvilles gave the Chapter a l