table, near my sword--do you see?"

They went down, but Henri seemed thoughtful and preoccupied. Chicot
looked at him, and thought, "What the devil made me talk politics to
this brave prince, and make him sad? Fool that I was!"

Once in the court, Henri approached the group of mendicants. There were
a dozen men in different costumes. Henri took the purse from the hands
of Chicot and made a sign, and then each man came forward and saluted
Henri with an air of humility, which did not preclude a glance full of
intelligence at the king. Henri replied by a motion of the head; then,
putting his fingers into the purse, which Chicot held open, he took out
a piece.

"Do you know that it is gold, sire?" said Chicot.

"Yes, my friend, I know."

"Peste! you are rich."

"Do you not see that each of these pieces serves for two? On the
contrary, I am so poor that I am forced to cut my gold in two."

"It is true," said Chicot, with surprise: "they are half-pieces, with
fantastic designs."

"Oh, I am like my brother Henri, who amuses himself in cutting out
images: I amuse myself with clipping my ducats."

"Nevertheless, sire, it is an odd method of giving charity," said
Chicot, who divined some hidden mystery.

"What would you do?"

"Instead of cutting the gold, I would give one piece between two."

"They would fight, and I should do harm instead of good."'

Henry then took one of the pieces, and, placing himself before the first
beggar, looked at him inquiringly.

"Agen," said the man.

"How many?" asked Henri.

"Five hundred."

"Cahors;" and he gave him the piece and took a second.

The man bowed and withdrew.

The next advanced and said, "Auch."

"How many?"

"Three hundred and fifty."

"Cahors;" and he gave him his piece.

"Narbonne," said the third.

"How many?"

"Eight hundred."

"Cahors;" and he gave him his piece.

"Montauban," said the fourth.

"How many?"

"Six hundred."--"Cahors."

Each one in this way pronounced a name and a number, and received a
piece of gold, and to each Henri replied, "Cahors."

This over, there were no pieces left in the purse.

"That is all, sire," said Chicot.

"Yes; I have finished."

"Sire, am I permitted to be curious?"

"Why not? Curiosity is natural."

"What did these beggars say, and what did you reply?"

Henri smiled.

"Indeed," continued Chicot, "all is mysterious here."

"Do you think so?"

"Yes; I have never seen alms given in that wa