ree. The king sat down on a bench and the courtiers made a circle
about him.

"Sire, a man who pretended to be a Fleming has got the better of me--"
began Cornelius.

"He must be crafty indeed, that fellow!" exclaimed Louis, wagging his
head.

"Oh, yes!" replied the silversmith, bitterly. "But methinks he'd have
snared you yourself. How could I distrust a beggar recommended to me
by Oosterlinck, one hundred thousand francs of whose money I hold in
my hands. I will wager the Jew's letter and seal were forged! In short,
sire, I found myself this morning robbed of those jewels you admired so
much. They have been ravished from me, sire! To steal the jewels of the
Elector of Bavaria! those scoundrels respect nothing! they'll steal your
kingdom if you don't take care. As soon as I missed the jewels I went
up to the room of that apprentice, who is, assuredly, a past-master in
thieving. This time we don't lack proof. He had forced the lock of
his door. But when he got back to his room, the moon was down and he
couldn't find all the screws. Happily, I felt one under my feet when
I entered the room. He was sound asleep, the beggar, tired out. Just
fancy, gentlemen, he got down into my strong-room by the chimney.
To-morrow, or to-night, rather, I'll roast him alive. He had a silk
ladder, and his clothes were covered with marks of his clambering over
the roof and down the chimney. He meant to stay with me, and ruin
me, night after night, the bold wretch! But where are the jewels? The
country-folks coming into town early saw him on the roof. He must have
had accomplices, who waited for him by that embankment you have been
making. Ah, sire, you are the accomplice of fellows who come in boats;
crack! they get off with everything, and leave no traces! But we hold
this fellow as a key, the bold scoundrel! ah! a fine morsel he'll be
for the gallows. With a little bit of _questioning_ beforehand, we shall
know all. Why, the glory of your reign is concerned in it! there ought
not to be robbers in the land under so great a king."

The king was not listening. He had fallen into one of those gloomy
meditations which became so frequent during the last years of his life.
A deep silence reigned.

"This is your business," he said at length to Tristan; "take you hold of
it."

He rose, walked a few steps away, and the courtiers left him alone.
Presently he saw Cornelius, mounted on his mule, riding away in company
with the grand provost.