day gotten gold, eggs, cheeses, and a little blue purse
broidered with silver. Lady, I grudge thee none of the gifts that have
been made thee. Thou dost well deserve them, yea, and more than they. I
do not so much as ask thee to make them give me back what a thief hath
robbed me of, a thief by name Jacquet Coque-douille, one of the most
honoured citizens of this thy town of Le Puy. No, all I ask of thee
is not to let me die of hunger. And if thou grant me this boon, I will
indite a full and fair history of thine holy image here present."

So prayed Florent Guillaume. The soft murmur of his petition was
answered only by the deep-chested, placid snore of the sleeping priest.
The poor scrivener rose from his knees, stepped noiselessly adown the
nave, for he was grown so light his footfall could scarce be heard, and,
fasting as he was, climbed the tower stairs that had as many steps as
there are days in the year.

Meanwhile Madame Ysabeau, slipping under the cloister gate, entered
her Church. The pilgrims had driven her away, for she loved peace and
solitude. The bird came forward cautiously, putting one foot slowly
in front of the other, then stopped and craned her neck, casting a
suspicious look to right and left. Then giving a graceful little jump
and shaking out her tail feathers, she hopped up to the Black Madonna.
Then she stood stock still a few moments, scrutinising the sleeping
watchman and questioning the darkness and silence with eyes and ears
alert. At last with a mighty flutter of wings she alighted on the table
of offerings.

IV

[Illustration: 056]

MEANWHILE Florent Guillaume had settled himself for the night in the
steeple. It was bitter cold. The wind came blowing in through the
luffer-boards and fluted and organed among the bells to rejoice the
heart of the cats and owls. And this was not the only objection to
the lodging. Since the earthquake of 1427, which had shaken the whole
church, the spire was dropping to pieces stone by stone and threatened
to collapse altogether in the first storm. Our Lady suffered this
dilapidation because of the people's sins.

Presently Florent Guillaume fell asleep, which is a token of his
innocency of heart. What dreams he dreamt is clean forgot, except that
he had a vision in his sleep of a lady of consummate beauty who came and
kissed him on the mouth. But when his lips opened to return her salute,
he swallowed two or three woodlice that were walking over hi