of the treasure. Yet, since I have
received good treatment at the hands of your master, I will e'en give it
to you. You shall have your cross."

With suspicions now at point of certainty, I drew out my pouch from
under my pillow, and counted into his hand the ten pieces which were my
store. My rosary I drew out likewise; I had broken it when I shattered
the cross, but one of the inn-maids had tied it together for me with a
thread, and it served very well. The Italian unhooked the delicate
carving from the silver chain and hung it on my wooden one, which I
threw over my neck, vastly pleased with my new possession. Marcel's
Virgin was a botch compared with it. I remembered that mademoiselle, who
had given me half my wealth, the half that won me the rest, had bidden
me buy something in the marts of Paris; and I told myself with pride
that she could not fail to hold me high did she know how, passing by all
vanities, I had spent my whole store for a holy image. Few boys of my
age would be capable of the like. Certes, I had done piously, and should
now take a further pious joy, my purchase safe on my neck, in thwarting
the wiles of this serpent. I would play with him awhile, tease and
baffle him, before handing him over in triumph to Vigo.

Sure enough, he began as I had expected:

"This M. de Mar down-stairs, he is a very good master, I suppose?"

"Yes," I said, without enthusiasm.

"He has always treated you well?"

I bethought myself of the trick I had played successfully with the
officer of the burgess guard.

"Why, yes, I suppose so. I have only known him two days."

"But you have known him well? You have seen much of him?" he demanded
with ill-concealed eagerness.

"But not so very much," I made tepid answer. "I have not been with him
all the time of these two days. I have seen really very little of him."

"And you know not whether or no he be a good master?"

"Oh, pretty good. So-so."

He sprang forward to deal me a stinging box on the ear.

I was out of bed at one bound, scattering the trinkets in a golden rain
and rushing for him. He retreated before me. It was to save his jewels,
but I, fool that I was, thought it pure fear of me. I dashed at him, all
headlong confidence; the next I knew he had somehow twisted his foot
between mine, and tripped me before I could grapple. Never was wight
more confounded to find himself on the floor.

I was starting up again unhurt when I saw something that made me to