to see his
house at Bourges. It would fit a prince! He has ships going to Egypt and
Africa, and stores of silk enough to array all the dames and demoiselles
in France! Jewels fit for an emperor, perfumes like a very grove of
camphire. Then he has mines of silver and copper, and the King has given
him the care of the coinage. Everything prospers that he sets his hand
to, and he well deserves it, for he is an honest man where honest men
are few.'

'Is he here?'

'Yea; I saw his green hood crossing the court of the castle this very
noon. The King can never go on long without him, though there are those
that so bate him that I fear he may have a fall one of these days.
Methinks I heard that he ay hears his morning mass when here at the
little chapel of St. James, close to the great shrine of St. Martin, at
six of the clock in the morning, so as to be private. You might find him
there, and whatever he saith to you will be sooth, whether it be as you
would have it, or no.'

On consideration Sir Patrick decided to adopt the lady's advice, and
on her side she reflected that it might be well to take care that the
interview did not fail for want of recognition.

The glorious Cathedral of Tours was standing up dark, but with
glittering windows, from the light within deepening the stained glass,
and throwing out the beauty of the tracery, while the sky, brightening
in the autumn morning, threw the towers into relief, when, little
recking of all this beauty, only caring to find the way, Sir Patrick on
the one hand, the old Scots French lady on the other, went their way to
the noble west front, each wrapped in a long cloak, and not knowing one
another, till their eyes met as they gave each other holy water at the
door, after the habit of strangers entering at the same time.

Then Madame de Ste. Petronelle showed the way to the little side chapel,
close to the noble apse. There, beneath the six altar-candles, a priest
was hurrying through a mass in a rapid ill-pronounced manner, while,
besides his acolyte, worshippers were very few. Only the light fell
on the edges of a dark-green velvet cloak and silvered a grizzled head
bowed in reverence, and Madame de Ste. Petronelle touched Sir Patrick
and made him a significant sign.

Daylight was beginning to reveal itself by the time the brief service
was over. Sir Patrick, stimulated by the lady, ventured a few steps
forward, and accosted Maitre Coeur as he rose, and drawing forward h