d,"
said Louis. "But which side do you espouse in the great controversy,
Sillery or Auxerre--France or Burgundy?"

"I will stand neutral, Sire," said the Cardinal, "and replenish my cup
with Auvernat."

"A neutral has a perilous part to sustain," said the King; but as he
observed the Cardinal colour somewhat, he glided from the subject and
added, "But you prefer the Auvernat, because it is so noble a wine it
endures not water.--You, Sir Count, hesitate to empty your cup. I trust
you have found no national bitterness at the bottom."

"I would, Sire," said the Count de Crevecoeur, "that all national
quarrels could be as pleasantly ended as the rivalry betwixt our
vineyards."

"With time, Sir Count," answered the King, "with time--such time as you
have taken to your draught of Champagne.--And now that it is finished,
favour me by putting the goblet in your bosom, and keeping it as a
pledge of our regard. It is not to every one that we would part with it.
It belonged of yore to that terror of France, Henry V of England, and
was taken when Rouen was reduced, and those islanders expelled from
Normandy by the joint arms of France and Burgundy. It cannot be better
bestowed than on a noble and valiant Burgundian, who well knows that on
the union of these two nations depends the continuance of the freedom of
the continent from the English yoke."

The Count made a suitable answer, and Louis gave unrestrained way to
the satirical gaiety of disposition which sometimes enlivened the darker
shades of his character. Leading, of course, the conversation, his
remarks, always shrewd and caustic, and often actually witty, were
seldom good natured, and the anecdotes with which he illustrated them
were often more humorous than delicate; but in no one word, syllable,
or letter did he betray the state of mind of one who, apprehensive of
assassination, hath in his apartment an armed soldier with his piece
loaded, in order to prevent or anticipate an attack on his person.

The Count de Crevecoeur gave frankly in to the King's humour [the nature
of Louis XI's coarse humour may be guessed at by those who have perused
the Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles, which are grosser than most similar
collections of the age. S.]; while the smooth churchman laughed at every
jest and enhanced every ludicrous idea, without exhibiting any shame at
expressions which made the rustic young Scot blush even in his place of
concealment. In about an hour and a half the t