rovost, "how shall we dispose of it?"

"Let me see an instant," said the King--"the windows of the hall are too
narrow; but that projecting oriel is wide enough. We will over with him
into the Somme, and put a paper on his breast, with the legend, 'Let the
justice of the King pass toll free.' The Duke's officers may seize it
for duties if they dare."

The Provost Marshal left the apartment of Louis, and summoned his two
assistants to council in an embrasure in the great hall, where Trois
Eschelles stuck a torch against the wall to give them light. They
discoursed in whispers, little noticed by Oliver le Dain, who seemed
sunk in dejection, and Le Balafre, who was fast asleep.

"Comrades," said the Provost to his executioners, "perhaps you have
thought that our vocation was over, or that, at least, we were more
likely to be the subjects of the duty of others than to have any more to
discharge on our own parts. But courage, my mates! Our gracious master
has reserved for us one noble cast of our office, and it must be
gallantly executed, as by men who would live in history."

"Ay, I guess how it is," said Trois Eschelles; "our patron is like the
old Kaisers of Rome, who, when things came to an extremity, or, as we
would say, to the ladder foot with them, were wont to select from their
own ministers of justice some experienced person, who might spare their
sacred persons from the awkward attempts of a novice, or blunderer
in our mystery. It was a pretty custom for Ethnics; but, as a good
Catholic, I should make some scruple at laying hands on the Most
Christian King."

"Nay, but, brother, you are ever too scrupulous," said Petit Andre. "If
he issues word and warrant for his own execution, I see not how we
can in duty dispute it. He that dwells at Rome must obey the Pope--the
Marshalsmen, must do their master's bidding, and he the King's."

"Hush, you knaves!" said the Provost Marshal, "there is here no purpose
concerning the King's person, but only that of the Greek heretic pagan
and Mahomedan wizard, Martius Galeotti."

"Galeotti!" answered Petit-Andre, "that comes quite natural. I never
knew one of these legerdemain fellows, who pass their lives, as one may
say, in dancing upon a tight rope, but what they came at length to caper
at the end of one--tchick."

"My only concern is," said Trois Eschelles, looking upwards, "that the
poor creature must die without confession."

"Tush! tush!" said the Provost Marshal, in