nder
the wax of the seal by making use of the same means as he had done
before; he then fastened the wax so artistically that the most
experienced eye would not have been able to have detected the slightest
crack.

He then replaced the letter in the pocket of the dead man, had the
linen, which had been steeped in the oil and wine, applied to his wound
by way of a cataplasm, put on again the safety coat of mail next to his
skin, his shirt over his coat of mail, picked up his sword, wiped it,
thrust it into the scabbard, and withdrew.

He returned again, however, saying:

"If, after all, the story which I have invented does not seem
satisfactory to you, you can accuse the captain of having thrust his own
sword through his body."

"A suicide?"

"Well, that don't compromise any one, you understand."

"But they won't bury this ill-starred fellow in holy ground."

"Pooh," said Chicot, "will that be giving him much pleasure?"

"Why, yes, I should think so."

"In that case, do as you like, my dear Bonhomet; adieu."

Then, returning a second time, he said:

"By-the-by, I pay, since he is no more." And Chicot threw three golden
crowns on the table, and then, placing his fore-finger on his lips, in
token of silence, he departed.

CHAPTER LXXXII.

THE HUSBAND AND THE LOVER.

It was with no inconsiderable emotion that Chicot again recognized La
Rue des Augustins, so quiet and deserted, the angle formed by the block
of houses which preceded his own, and lastly, his own dear house itself,
with its triangular roof, its worm-eaten balcony, and its gutters
ornamented with waterspouts.

He had been so terribly afraid that he should find nothing but an empty
space in the place of the house, and had so strongly suspected that he
should see the street blackened by the smoke of a conflagration, that
the street and the house appeared to him miracles of neatness,
loveliness, and splendor.

Chicot had concealed the key of his beloved house in the hollow of a
stone which served as the base of one of the columns by which his
balcony was supported. At the period we are now writing about, any kind
of key belonging to a chest or piece of furniture equaled in weight and
size the very largest keys of our houses of the present day; the door
keys, therefore, following the natural proportions, were equal in size
to the keys of our modern cities.

Chicot had consequently calculated the difficulty which his pocket would
have