haking his ragged wig with an air of pity.

"I understand begging; and that is getting without cheating, and much
more to the purpose," replied Max, hotly. "Look you, Master Pothier! you
are learned as three curates; but I can get more money in the gate of
the Basse Ville by simply standing still and crying out Pour l'amour de
Dieu! than you with your budget of law lingo-jingo, running up and down
the country until the dogs eat off the calves of your legs, as they say
in the Nivernois."

"Well, never mind what they say in the Nivernois about the calves of my
legs! Bon coq ne fut jamais gras!--a game-cock is never fat--and that is
Master Pothier dit Robin. Lean as are my calves, they will carry away
as much of your eel pie to-night as those of the stoutest carter in
Quebec!"

"And the pie is baked by this time; so let us be jogging!" interrupted
Bartemy, rising. "Now give me your arm, Max! and with Master Pothier's
on the other side, I shall walk to the Fleur-de-Lis straight as a
steeple."

The glorious prospect of supper made all three merry as crickets on a
warm hearth, as they jogged over the pavement in their clouted shoes,
little suspecting they had left a flame of anger in the breast of
Angelique des Meloises, kindled by the few words of Pothier respecting
the lady of Beaumanoir.

Angelique recalled with bitterness that the rude bearer of the note had
observed something that had touched the heart and opened the purse of
the Intendant. What was it? Was Bigot playing a game with Angelique des
Meloises? Woe to him and the lady of Beaumanoir if he was! As she sat
musing over it a knock was heard on the door of her boudoir. She left
the balcony and reentered her room, where a neat, comely girl in a
servant's dress was waiting to speak to her.

The girl was not known to Angelique. But courtesying very low, she
informed her that she was Fanchon Dodier, a cousin of Lizette's. She
had been in service at the Chateau of Beaumanoir, but had just left it.
"There is no living under Dame Tremblay," said she, "if she suspect a
maid servant of flirting ever so little with M. Froumois, the handsome
valet of the Intendant! She imagined that I did; and such a life as
she has led me, my Lady! So I came to the city to ask advice of cousin
Lizette, and seek a new place. I am sure Dame Tremblay need not be so
hard upon the maids. She is always boasting of her own triumphs when she
was the Charming Josephine."

"And Lizette referr