it all over?" said the king.

"Our man is in the hands of the monks. He confessed the theft after a
touch of the 'question.'"

The countess gave a sign, and turned pale; she could not speak, but
looked at the king. That look was observed by Saint-Vallier, who
muttered in a low tone: "I am betrayed; that thief is an acquaintance of
my wife."

"Silence!" cried the king. "Some one is here who will wear out my
patience. Go at once and put a stop to the execution," he continued,
addressing the grand provost. "You will answer with your own body for
that of the criminal, my friend. This affair must be better sifted,
and I reserve to myself the doing of it. Set the prisoner at liberty
provisionally; I can always recover him; these robbers have retreats
they frequent, lairs where they lurk. Let Cornelius know that I shall
be at his house to-night to begin the inquiry myself. Monsieur de
Saint-Vallier," said the king, looking fixedly at the count, "I know
about you. All your blood could not pay for one drop of mine; do
you hear me? By our Lady of Clery! you have committed crimes of
lese-majesty. Did I give you such a pretty wife to make her pale and
weakly? Go back to your own house, and make your preparations for a long
journey."

The king stopped at these words from a habit of cruelty; then he
added:--

"You will leave to-night to attend to my affairs with the government
of Venice. You need be under no anxiety about your wife; I shall take
charge of her at Plessis; she will certainly be safe here. Henceforth I
shall watch over her with greater care than I have done since I married
her to you."

Hearing these words, Marie silently pressed her father's arm as if to
thank him for his mercy and goodness. As for Louis XI., he was laughing
to himself in his sleeve.

CHAPTER IV. THE HIDDEN TREASURE

Louis XI. was fond of intervening in the affairs of his subjects, and he
was always ready to mingle his royal majesty with the burgher life. This
taste, severely blamed by some historians, was really only a passion for
the "incognito," one of the greatest pleasures of princes,--a sort of
momentary abdication, which enables them to put a little real life into
their existence, made insipid by the lack of opposition. Louis XI.,
however, played the incognito openly. On these occasions he was always
the good fellow, endeavoring to please the people of the middle classes,
whom he made his allies against feudality. For some ti