more thoughtful.

He immediately sent for the men he had stationed on the watch and
asked:--

"What did you see during the night?"

"Oh, sire!" said the lieutenant, "an amazing sight! Your silversmith
crept down the side of the wall like a cat; so lightly that he seemed to
be a shadow."

"I!" exclaimed Cornelius; after that one word, he remained silent, and
stood stock-still like a man who has lost the use of his limbs.

"Go away, all of you," said the king, addressing the archers, "and tell
Messieurs Conyngham, Coyctier, Bridore, and also Tristan, to leave their
rooms and come here to mine.--You have incurred the penalty of death,"
he said to Cornelius, who, happily, did not hear him. "You have ten
murders on your conscience!"

Thereupon Louis XI. gave a silent laugh, and made a pause. Presently,
remarking the strange pallor on the Fleming's face, he added:--

"You need not be uneasy; you are more valuable to bleed than to kill.
You can get out of the claws of _my_ justice by payment of a good round
sum to my treasury, but if you don't build at least one chapel in honor
of the Virgin, you are likely to find things hot for you throughout
eternity."

"Twelve hundred and thirty, and eighty-seven thousand crowns, make
thirteen hundred and seventeen thousand crowns," replied Cornelius
mechanically, absorbed in his calculations. "Thirteen hundred and
seventeen thousand crowns hidden somewhere!"

"He must have buried them in some hiding-place," muttered the king,
beginning to think the sum royally magnificent. "That was the magnet
that invariably brought him back to Tours. He felt his treasure."

Coyctier entered at this moment. Noticing the attitude of Maitre
Cornelius, he watched him narrowly while the king related the adventure.

"Sire," replied the physician, "there is nothing supernatural in that.
Your silversmith has the faculty of walking in his sleep. This is
the third case I have seen of that singular malady. If you would give
yourself the amusement of watching him at such times, you would see that
old man stepping without danger at the very edge of the roof. I noticed
in the two other cases I have already observed, a curious connection
between the actions of that nocturnal existence and the interests and
occupations of their daily life."

"Ah! Maitre Coyctier, you are a wise man."

"I am your physician," replied the other, insolently.

At this answer, Louis XI. made the gesture which was customary w